Uproot the Mind
by JacobimVonStyluss
Summary: [Hiatus]Future HarryRodolphus Ship. Harry is depressed and beaten, but finally begins to realise the truth. He builds a new life for himself in Durmstrang, where a few surprises await him. Read and review people, please!
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

You know, after Harry got back from Hogwarts this year, he thought he could just sit around and do sod all, for the summer, like most kids. He, reasonably enough, thought he had earned a hiatus. He was wrong. He is Harry Potter, Wizarding celebrity/saviour/scapegoat/student, regularly known as the Boy-Who-Lived. As a general rule of thumb, if your name is hyphenated, you really don't get much of a break. Voldemort learned this 'bout twenty years ago, when somebody had the guts (and stupidity) to try and get an interview. But I digress. Anyway, after the whole Ministry: Mysteries department fiasco, which resulted in the death of Harry's godfather, Harry thought that he really needed a break.

He was taking one, sat in his room with a headache. It was the expected British summer; wet. Harry liked the rain. It probably had something to do with the fact, every time someone hurried past, he almost laughed at their misfortune, being caught in this rain. The only emotions that had been coaxed out of him in the past month. "Oh look, it's the prudish Wilkinsons to No15! I've always wanted to see them get a good soaking!" "Oh, it's old Bella Figg, isn't she one of Bumble's people? Her cats look annoyed." Thoughts like these were to simply to stave off the boredom and depression, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything more than dull curiosity. He was too emotionally empty.

Nobody should have to suffer the sorrow-filled life he has. Its not fair on anyone.

**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**

**Disclaimer: This ain't mine, and never will be. Unless JKR's selling, of course.**

Harry spent most of his days leaning against his wall, or the window when it rains. At no point did he show emotion, for the most part, just sat there. He only ate when his relatives, usually Petunia, pushed food through the cat flap, the one he'd had when his relatives decided to lock him up over one summer, and only let him out for bathroom breaks. He rarely finished his food, because, while he wasn't suicidal, he still saw no point to eat much. He needed little energy, and had become used to hunger. While he cared little for the stomach cramps, he could live happily with anything less. Or as happy as he was normally, which frankly wasn't very.

Okay, so maybe the cramps were a little annoying, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before. He'd withstood multiple cruciatuses, he shouldn't even notice something so inconsequential. It was only a little pain, after all. Damn it, he was getting weak. He growled at his own laziness, yet he did nothing more, and stayed sat where he was.

The pain grew until eventually Harry couldn't move properly, without nearly throwing up. It was irrelevant. Harry simply didn't get up to get his food. The pain continued...

Harry wasn't crying. Harry didn't mourn Sirius. He didn't want to crack the mask of emotionlessness he'd got so good at, only little droplets managing to filter through, being quashed before they took hold. Harry didn't want to show emotion anymore... it only led to hurt.

Harry still did nothing, the Dursleys carried on, without him. Petunia had heard of his loss, and wisely, chose not to tell Vernon. He would see a weakness, and mercilessly attack him over it. Petunia was not heartless, and never hated Harry for his magic. She also didn't tell Vernon that Harry did no chores. He would force him to. Luckily, Vernon had longer hours now at Grunnings, and spent most of the evening (and their money), drinking.

She held no feelings towards magic, neither positive or negative, and never disliked her sister. She was actually happy for Lily, and her power. While she was slightly jealous at the time.. She merely made it seem so because she didn't want to anger Vernon. While at the start, she loved him she soon came to realise that he was a prejudiced man. She could live with faults of personality, but then he started to drink. Heavily. No good reason, he just did. This was about fifteen years back, a couple of months before Harry came to live with them. When Harry and Dudley were two, she told him quietly that maybe he had a problem, and should seek help. Later that night, she realised he no longer loved her, and her last scrap of love for him shattered. She was glad to see it go, for he was irrational at best, and she wanted no emotional attachment to him. What broke her love...

_**Flashback**_

"**Honey, are you sure you need to drink so much?" she asked meekly. **

"**You think I have a problem?" he slurred, seemingly unangry about the idea.**

"**Well, yes, maybe you could get help?"**

"**Well... I suppose..." and then swung, breaking her jaw. She fell to the ground yelling out in pain and shock. He kicked her.**

"**That'll teach you not to show me disrespect in this house, woman!" He yelled.**

_**End Flashback**_

She went to hospital and claimed to have fell down the stairs. She couldn't believe that he had done this, and didn't want to repeat it to an outsider. She would forgive him if he apologized, and love him again if he went for alcoholic's help. Instead, he said "I hope you learned your lesson, bitch. You better start treating me right."

That day she swore an oath. She would stay, to prevent any real damage coming to Harry and Dudley. One action she hated herself for was sending a letter to Hogwarts, stating that Dudley would not be educated there. She could not let Dudley be treated like Harry. While she loved Harry, there was little she could do for him, and Dudley could at least be treated humanely. She wote desperate letters to Dumbledore for years, asking Harry to be taken from her and her husband, saying he was being mistreated. Every reply was the same:

'I am sure the situation is by no means as dire as you make it out to be. I have full faith in your parenting abilities.'

Petunia came to a conclusion. The old man didn't care. She knew all about Harry, and realised that he was nothing more than a tool to him, a mere press opportunity, someone to add to Dumbledore's list of blind followers.

She added to her oath. She would take the two of them, up and leave the very day physical harm came to either Harry or Dudley.

Harry spent most of his time, leaning against the window, with his eyes shut, enjoying the noise of the rain streaming down the window. Imagining he was outside, free, able to live as he chose, and if that meant running in the rain than **so be it. **However, Dumbledore had banned him from leaving the house. And anyway, he was a _celebrity. _He'd never be free. Never free...

Harry didn't realise he was crying, until he felt the salt trickle into his mouth. The dam broke, and he grieved. Water streamed down either side of the window that night, aone natural, the other a salty reminder of the only man whose grievances compared to Harry's own.

Harry didn't move from where he sat, in an uneven chair, leant against a dirty window that night. He slept where he sat.

It was the best night's sleep he had in weeks, since before the exams. It didn't matter that he had a glass pillow, and a solid wood bed, for he dreamt all night of all the good times with Sirius. While he cried in his sleep, there was a bittersweet happiness to them, and these were tears Harry was willing to shed.

Vernon got home early that day, July 28th. Petunia felt a feeling of foreboding before Vernon stepped through the door, and this was confirmed when Vernon stepped into the kitchen.

"Petunia, why the hell are you doing the chores? I thought we made it clear the freak would do it as punishment for his... condition."

She felt her tenuous control over her temper break and she snapped, "Well you thought wrong. _You_ made it clear that he would do so, I made no such agreement."

His face turned puce. "Don't talk back to me, _woman,_" he spat, slapping her across the face. "I'm going upstairs to punish the freak for his laziness."

He stomped upstairs. Petunia held her face in shock. He'd never hit her while sober before. She snapped out of it when she heard a thump. She realised that Harry was being beaten, and, choking down a sob, picked up the phone.

After she had put down the receiver, Dudley arrived home. "Whats going on, mum? Oh my god, what happened to your face?"

"Your father happened. Please, I know with your boxing skills you have a chance. Go help Harry, before Vernon causes him any real damage."

Dudley paled a little, but steeled himself and nodded. He ran upstairs.

_**Five minutes later**_

Harry was unconscious, and in a sorry state. Dudley stood in front of him, shielding his prone form from any more attacks. Dudley had taken a couple of punches, hard ones, but he took them like a pro and remained standing, for the cousin he had always hated. His mother explained a lot as soon as he got home and away from Vernon. Dudley dropped his childish prejudice immediately, for he was having doubts anyway. He agreed to help Harry whenever it was needed, and despite the pain of the punches – Vernon was strong – there was nowhere he would rather be right now. He was finally making up for years of unfair treatment. Suddenly, two policemen burst into the room, and attempted to apprehend Vernon. However, Vernon let out a yell and threw an adrenaline fuelled punch at one of the officers, knocking him sideways, and threw an elbow into the other constable's midsection, knocking the wind out of him.

Dudley saw his chance, Vernon was distracted. He changed his stance, flexed his fist and swung. His father lifted slightly off the ground, and skidded along the carpet outside Harry's room, unconscious. The winded officer handcuffed vernon and, with a pained grin at Dudley, lifted him out of the room, while the other officer asked for a hand up.

As Dudley hauled him to his feet, the officer offered congratulations on a good hit. "Where did you learn to deliver a punch like that?"

"School, I'm the amateur boxing champ there."

"Impressive. Right, well, I'll need a statement. I'll get one from your mother afterwards, unless it is as I suspect. She might be going with her husband to the constabulary, in which case the statement will be taken there."

"What about Harry?"

"The paramedics are here, they were just getting everything out of the ambulance."

"Okay, I'll give a statement, so long as you take me to the hospital to see Harry afterwards."

The officer agreed to drive him to Greater Whinging University Hospital, and pick up his mother from the station after the statement. Dudley and the officer – who gave his name as David to put Dudley at ease – relocated to the kitchen, where they talked about Harry's past life, exactly what happened within the house, and exactly what happened earlier that day.

"Well David, I suppose I'll have to start from the beginning. Hallowe'en '81, Harry's parents were murdered by a terrorist," after all, he couldn't give everything away "who went by the name of Voldemort. His real name is something Riddle, my mum said. Anyway, because of a family argument my dad, and until recently I thought my mother as well, hated Harry's side of the family. Harry's mum, Aunt Lily as she probably would have been, was Mum's sister.

"He was sent to live with us, and my dad always mistreated him, and I won't deny I used to bully him. My dad always called him the freak, and to be honest I was parroting my father's beliefs. I never looked hard at Harry and saw the great person he truly is. However, he got back from school a few days after me – we both go to boarding schools - and before he did my mum told me everything. How she didn't hate Aunt Lily or Uncle James, but that my father hated them and would occasionally resort to household violence if she ever said anything positive in their defence. She sisn't leave because she didn't want to risk losing custody over us and wanted to stay until we could leave, to ensure we were safe.

"She told me Harry was to be left alone because a friend of his had died in front of his eyes, and he could do nothing. She knew anything we did would offer no comfort, so we were to simply make no demands. Harry never showed this summer, so we left him a meal whenever we ate, inside his room. I wanted to give him space, so whenever I took up his meals I left them inside his cat-flap,"

Here David rose an eyebrow. "Cat-flap?"

"Yeah... that was when Dad locked him in his room all summer. They were for leaving him meals. Did you notice the locks on his door? Dad put those up and used them every summer. He expected them to be in use this summer. However, whenever he got home, he was so drunk he never noticed, then slept in. Because this meant he was late for work every morning, he wouldn't have time to check. However, Harry still didn't surface. We left him to his grief.

"This morning, I went out to a friend's house. When I arrived back, Mum was putting down the phone. I assume it was from phoning you guys. Anyway, Mum had a huge mark on her face and when I asked she just said it was my dad. Then she asked me to go help Harry. I think she was worried my father was going to kill him, because she wouldn't have wanted me taking on my father otherwise.

"Luckily, due to my boxing experience, I could beat not on power, because his build is stronger than mine, but technique. That was probably the best fight I've given, and I'm damn proud of that punch," He grinned, and then his whole demeanour changed, and he lowered his head into his hands. "Harry was in a sorry state," he mumbled, "My father was thrashing him with his belt, growling 'It's your fault, It's your fault, It's your fault,' over and over again. I think he lost his job. It wouldn't surprise me. He was drinking more every day, and being later in than ever.

Dudley took a deep breath. "Here's the worst part... He, he... smashed the buckle into Harry's head, and laughed." Dudley started to cry. David silently got a bit of toilet roll for Dudley to wipe his eyes. David was feeling a bit shaken himself. Not so much about the abuse because he saw abuse fairly often, sadly, but the worst of it was who it was happening to. This boy was an orphan who had just lost another person important to him, and then this happens.

Dudley finished the story, "Well, I pushed him back onto the wall, and basically got in front of Harry. I couldn't let him near him again, Harry wasn't moving. I thought he was gonna die, but luckily I could channel this fear into a sort of anger, or an adrenaline if you will. Using this emotional fuel, I decided now was the time to make amends for Harry's life. A couple of minutes later you guys turned up, and thanks to the distraction I was able to get a knockout hit."

David collected himself, shook Dudley's hand, and thanked him for the statement. "Well, shall we be going?" Dudley smiled. "Gladly." he stated.

**AN: - Sooooo...**

**I wanna ask you people a favour, it's very easy to do. It involves typing around 5 – 25 words, whereas there is 2743 words in this chapter. It's called reviewing, and it makes we authors muchos happy...**

**Sooooo...**

**You gonna?**

**The button's down here, this corner of the screen...**

**Go on, you know you wanna...**

**(This was mostly a test of my persuasion skills. Did I pass:))**


	2. Chapter 2

_Prologue_

Harry is laid in an ambulance at the moment. Pretty depressing, I know. But hey, don't blame me, blame his uncle. It was him who thought hitting him with a belt would be a good idea, not I. I am but a narrator in this comedy of errors. However, the depression is not over yet my friends... But once again, I digress.

There is a great deal that has been kept from Harry, as for various reasons Harry was wanted to still be the naïve boy that first entered Hogwarts, and gazed at the sky in amazement (Why did nobody realise the roof was made of enchanted glass? A thrid year ancient runes student could replicate it easily.). However, mistakes have been made, and plans have been ruined. Harry is not the same boy anymore. Assumptions were made to be smashed, and smashing will most certainly happen. Everything Harry believes in will be uprooted.

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**

**Disclaimer: This ain't mine, and never will be. Unless JKR's selling, of course.**

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

Arabella Figg was walking her cats – a fairly common magical custom. Strange as it may seem, it was rather popular in the wizarding world. Cats are intelligent, and the actual action of walking the cat is more that the cat walks the owner, who just follows where the cat leads them. As every day, the cats led her past number 4 Privet, Harry's house, as she'd wanted. She'd made this clear to them, that every walk must include Harry's house, just to check everything was alright. She was starting to think this was pointless, as nothing ever happened to him, he stayed in all day. She would have been worried, but his window faced onto the street, and she could see him leaning against the window from time to time.

She saw a police car heading down the street. "Odd, usually nothing's happening around here, this is the dullest and most prudish street I know." She involuntarily felt a little bit of happiness build in her. "Maybe there's some gossip in this?" As disgusted as she was for caring about the local gossip, it really was the locals rubbing off on her.

She couldn't see anything happening in the house, it really didn't look like anyone was in there. She went up to the house mentally creating some some excuse for asking after the boy. 'Maybe I could ask for his help around my house. Something about 'Me 'ealth ent what it used ta be'?'

She rang the bell, and waited. And waited still. She rang again. No-one was in .

'Hmm. I'll have to check again tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'll give Albus a heads up about this. I really don't understand why he removed the guards, though. The man really doesn't make sense.'

She returned to her house.

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

Petunia was at the station.

"I plan to file for divorce. I would have done so long ago but I wanted to be totally sure the kids would be out of his grasp. I couldn't let them face him alone."

"I admire you for sticking it out, Mrs Dursley."

"Petunia, please, or at least Mrs Evans. I'm not staying a Dursley much longer."

"Right, well Petunia I think we are finished here. One of my collegues is waiting to take oyu to the hospital to go see your nephew, and then you may do as you wish. Your son is with officer Simpson and will be accompanying you there. I'm assuming you will take full custody of them both? "

"Of course."

"Goodbye Mrs Evans."

"Goodbye officer."

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

_"John... get the drip..."_

_"Jesus... this boy is so malnourished it is unbelievable that he is alive right now..."_

_"Oh god... I can count this kid's ribs..."_

Harry could hear this, and various other voices. He could also hear what sounded like several people bustling around. Strange noises invaded his ears, a running tap, the snap of a somebody putting on a rubber glove. Bemusedly, he thought, 'What a strange dream... usually mine are about Sirius...' He burst into tears at the thought of the name, still half asleep. One of the voices said "Jesus, look at the poor kid..."

It was at this point that Harry realised this wasn't a dream. "He's awake," said one of the doctors.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, kiddo. Look, you're bashed up pretty bad. We'll need to operate. So just breathe," he said, putting a mask to his face. Harry was out like a light.

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

"How is he, Doctor?"

"He should be fine Ms Evans. The operation thus far has been a success, but he'll have ot stay still for a few days. The total injury list was a hairline fracture vertically heading down the skull, three broken ribs, some internal bleeding, and a broken arm. He is stable, the doctors are just setting the rest of the broken bones, he will be fine soon."

"Thank god for that... I don't want to lose my only relative my age." replied Dudley.

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

Harry was dreaming. Swirls of clouds, bringing forth cloudy visions of the ones he would attempt to keep his mind from. His mother. His father. Cedric. Sirius.

**_A ghostlyform, in a Hogwarts robe takes shape;_**

_"Take it together..."_

"Why did you let me die? You knew it was a portkey! You knew Moody was a fake!" Cedric shouted, tearfully. "Why? It is all your fault..."

**_The gas reforms, but Cedric's accusing shouts of "It's your fault!" continue..._**

"You led me there deliberately, damn it! You knew it was a set up! Was I too much of a hindrance? All your fault..."

**_The smoky Sirius dissipated, but once again the morbid chorus of "It's your fault... All your fault" continues..._**

_**Meanwhile a pain built in Harry's brain, like somebody was bending part of his mind until it snapped.**_

_"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and go!"_

"He wouldn't have come after us if it wasn't for you! It's all your fault..."

**_Four voices muttered the words... "All your fault..." over and over, again and again..._**

_**The pressure built, then... snap! With a noise Harry couldn't tell if he'd heard or just felt, the pressure released. **_

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

"Guys! He's going into shock!"

"Quick, get him stabilised! We're losing his vitals!"

"Jesus, no heartbeat!"

"Someone get the defibrillators. I'm gonna get this kid started again..."

"CLEAR!"

The doctor sent a pulse. Harry went into convulsions, his back rigid aginst the operating table, sweat flush on his skin. "Check him."

"Nothing."

The process was repeated.

"Pulse, check."

"Thank god, we've got him back."

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

Two days later, Harry woke up, in the hospital bed, a changed person. He had experienced recall, a magical phenomena that had happened to only one other known person, and was brought about by great mental pain.

**_Flashback_**

**"Harry, I want to tell you something, in private." Harry looked up.**

**"Sure Siri." They went into Sirius' bedroom. **

**"This may come as a shock to you Harry, but you need to know the truth. Dumbledore is untrustworthy. Simple as that. I do not work for the order, actually me and Remus are part of another organisation. Not the Death Eaters, but we are under orders to see if the order of the phoenix is worth joining for the outer branches of society. Remus works for the Werewolves, and i for the Vampires. They accepted me as we are outcasts, who are to be apprehended upon sight, then killed as soon as we are out of the public's sight. I choose to work for them, as I no longer trust Dumbledore."**

**Sirius pointed at a stone bowl on his bedside table. "That pensieve contains some of mine and Remus' memories. I think you need to know what we found." **

**Feeling slightly nervous, but trusting Sirius completely, Harry touched the silvery liquid, and was sucked into the memories. **

**Sirius was lurking in the kitchen with a thoughtful look upon his face, but showed some faint reaction when some faint murmuring came from the direction of the study. Intrigued, Sirius moved closer.**

**"... too much trouble. I'll have him disposed of..." Old man's voice, undoubtedly Albus** **However, it was somewhat muffled making it difficult to make out all the words. Albus always had a quiet voice.**

**"How will you do that, Albus?" Scottish accent, probably McGonagall.**

**"...as bait for Voldemort. When he...he'll come running. I'm sure he is irresponsible enough to get himself killed... "**

**The memories paused, and Harry was sucked from the bowl. "There is more, but I need to ask you something. As you can see, Dumbledore is not the hero that he is portrayed as. We are being played for fools. I don't know who the plans are for, but I can guess. Everyone is gonna have to watch their step. I can't expose this yet, though. I need to get it to the vampires and werewolves. They will do it for me. I do not plan on having the vampires or werewolves join Voldemort and I suspect they will follow my advice, and Remus'. We are their only spies in the order, so they have to trust our judgement. I plan on making a recommendation. They throw their support behind you. Whatever side you join, I will. As will Remus. As will the Dark Creatures. Whether it be Evil, Good or something else altogether. After all, evil and good are trading places in this war at the moment. So, will you accept?"**

**Harry wanted to reject him, 'I can't run an army, damn it!'**

**"Harry, your status will be that of a very trusted advisor, and you need not worry about command. Both sects of dark creatures have well constructed military systems. You will never be left in the dark."**

**Harry sighed, "Very well."**

**At that moment, Dumbledore burst through the door, fury twisting his face. "You forget, Black... Walls have ears. Obliviate!" He snarled.**

**_End Flashback_**

Harry realised so much that he should have realised before now. Dumbledore was avoiding his eyes. He had read a while ago about how memory charms can leak if the victim is exposed to eye-contact with the caster. This is known as magnetic drainage, and is an affect of many long term offensive spells.

Also, was Dumbledore's target Sirius? Dumbledore knew Harry's mind was undefended, he may have known about Voldemort making plans to go retrieve the prophecy. Also, why was he to believe that the prophecy? Voldemort may believe it, but Harry was not going to assume Dumbledore was telling the truth. In fact, wasn't it rather suspicious that in third year Dumbledore made it clear that Trelawney had made a prophecy before the one referring to Wormtail? Wait, doesn't that raise another...

'This is giving me a headache' Thought Harry. 'I need to get these questions written down...'

The ward door opened, and a doctor entered. "Ah, you're awake. You were out for a while there.Well, the surgery went well, and you will be able to leave in a few days. All the breaks are set, and so long as you are careful, you should be fine. However, you did go into shock once we thought you were stable, and your heart stopped. Luckily, you came out just fine."

"Right, well I'd advise getting some more sleep, as rest is always the best way to heal after a difficult ordeal. You will be continually tired for a while, due to the sedatives in your body."

Harry laid his head on the pillows, and was out like a light.

ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!ohmyword,itsalinebreak!

He had had this dream many times before:

**_"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and run!"_**

_**"No, not Harry, Take me instead!"**_

_**"Stand aside, you foolish girl!"**_

**What the hell! Voldemort's voice changed, it was never that tone before. This voice radiates with power and age... Oh hell. No way. No way was Dumbledore there. No... that can't be right, surely not. No, it must be true. The bastard must have obliviated me...'**

Harry sprang to a seated position, in his Hospital bed in Greater Whinging. "I'm gonna rip that old murderer to pieces..." he muttered.

**AN: - Sad and depressing, I know. The Narrator did warn you though...**

**I'm awfully sorry if this is, for want of a better word, crap. It was written late at night.**

**Woo! Poll! Should Harry: **

**A: **Join voldemort

**B:** Stay with the light, deposing Dumbledore** or **

**C: **start his own side, consisting of various unknown factions in the war(werewolves, vampires etc)?

**Woo! Another Poll! Pair Harry with:**

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle – Voldemort

Lucius Malfoy

Rodolphus Lestrange (I like this one... I really do)

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black (Sirius was the missing piece of HP 1 & 2)

Others (Must be Slashy! I'm a slasher through and through)

**Woo! Lots of reviews! A2A reviews trickle in at a rate of about one per week (at best) whereas this, (Eyes bulge from sockets) **

**15/06/05**

**nljfs – **Thanks... I'm not totally sure where it's headed though, I've got ideas buzzing around.

**Skull Bearer – **Great name! Thanks for the review... the thing about the humour is I can have a sort of dark humour when I'm talking through The Narrator, thats why I have it at the start of every chapter.

**Huggiebear – **He stayed in his room basically all summer. Not a word had been spoken between them...

**Disneyfreak () - **Yey! I passed! Sadness is a bit rife I'm afraid, but there is happiness as well. Eventually.

**Sappjody – **Thanks! This is a lot easier to write in bulk compared to Ashes To Ashes, so you get more to read! Yey!

**Koryan'shea – **You're the first reviewer to try to guess what i look like. Thanks... I think.Glad to know my textual puppy-dog eyes worked, that could be really useful to know:)

**Kelz () - **Erm, I ended it there because in England it was about 2 in the morning... and I had three hours of exams later that day. It's good to know you're eager to read it though :) I think this chapter destroyed any doubt about Dumbledore's alignment, don't you?

**SilentRaven987 – **I certainly plan on keeping it good, obviously, but whether I will succeed is up for debate. Glad you enjoyed it!

**Zandra Phillips – **Yes you did! I may have hypnotic powers, via text. That'd be useful. Err... the depression carries on a bit, especially in this chapter, I'm afraid However, cheerful stuff does come.

**16/06/05**

**RyanKathrynCelia **– Are you three different people? Like a shared account or something? Anyway, thanks for reviewing. I was really happy to hear that you consider it unique. I pride myself on slightly strange plotlines, and unorthodox writing styles. By the way, what do you mean by Harry belonging thing? I have a vague idea, but I'm still not sure.

**18/06/05**

**Frostyhogwarts – **Thanks!

**20/06/05**

**ERMonkey Burner of Cookies – **You are very close. He may return to Hogwarts, however it is currently more likely that he moves to another school, Durmstrang maybe. After all, he can't avoid England altogether, because there wouldn't be much of a story then.

**Woo! Double figures! You don't have any idea how happy I feel. I love sitting at my computer and reading reviews. **

**Any chance for more? **

**It would be very nice of you, and easy to do as well. Everything but a flame is welcome, I will answer any question that I can. **

**There is a little box just below this. It says 'submit review'. See, even the site is telling you to. You can't reject a direct order like that!**

**(hmm... perhaps I am a bit fanatical about reviews. Ah well – Review Review Review!)**


	3. Chapter 3

_Prologue_

Harry's still hoping for a bit of a break, poor kid.He shouldn't have to take so much strain yet the world forces this on him. He always was the downtrodden 'freak' beneath the heels of all he knew, and then eventually, suddenly the homecoming hero – _"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back..." - _The one raised upon a pedestal. How did a world expect someone like this to cope?

Needless to say however, he did cope, and did so admirably. In his own way of course, which was... unorthodox to say the least. Fighting trolls is a strange way to go about being a celebrity, but hey, whatever works. And work it certainly does. Eat your Hart out, Gilderoy!

However, he didn't realise that going playing at hero got people killed. Harry was well trained by those who wish to manipulate him; at the first sign of danger, he'd jump into the fray. Can that boy not unlock his Slytherin side? You know, the one that always, without fail makes sure he will stay alive before jumping in. Bravery is a Gryffindor trait, and Godric died young. Salazar lived to one hundred and ninety nine years old, while Gryffindor to just fifty-nine.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**

**Disclaimer: This ain't mine, and never will be. Unless JKR's selling, of course.**

**Note: In my fanfic, G, S: & K: are the symbols to be used for money. They are used in the same way as £ and $ signs. For example, twelve galleons, two sickles and three knuts is written G:12,S:2,K:3. Also, if you were to check my calculations in a part of this chapter, you would find a galleon to be worth £8.50. (I'm a Brit, so I don't really know $s)**

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry had spent the last few weeks on his bed, pondering the many mysteries of life; 'Does God exist? If so, why does he hate me? If not, is there many minor deities, like those of ancient religion? In which case, which one of them really has it in for me?' These were but a few of his repertoire of self-pitying, dark thoughts, whipping around his head at the speed of the Knight Bus. While he hated the fact that he was deeply engrossed in self pity, there really was nothing else to do.

However, he thought he now totally understood what had happened to cause him to regain memories – exactly what happened to Bertha Jorkins, simply set off by a different trigger. Bertha Jorkins regained her memories when she was put under the Cruciatus curse for a sustained period of time.

Harry had thought long and hard about the Cruciatus curse for many hours, and came up with a theory. The Cruciatus curse did not create physicalpain. It built up mental pain, that was translated into physical, by the nature of the curse. It was designed to stimulate the nerves in the body via the brain. Under the pressure of such mental trauma, thememory barriers created by obliviatessnapped. Since somebody who had been obliviated was rare, with it being a 'grey' curse (formerly dark, but classified as vital to wizarding society, and was now restricted but not prohibited), this recall was never noted.

In fact, it had almost certainly happened to some muggles who had been obliviated. After greatly traumatic events, some muggles were believed to have gone delusional. They would remember seeing mystical and strange creatures, and dark cloaked figures, like Death Eaters. As muggles knew nothing of recall, it was assumed the mental trauma had driven these people insane, whereas they had merely stumbled upon a unicorn, or had been caught in a death eater attack.

'I wonder why complex research has not gone into the affects of things like this. All you need is common sense...'. However, his answer was provided when he remembered something Hermione once said; _"Most wizards don't have a scrap of logic...". _'You never said a truer word, Hermione.'

It occurred to Harry, that with simple logic, he could create many different useful things. For example, surely someone with a strong knowledge of muggle electronics, working in tandem with wizarding researchers could surely invent electrical systems which work in high magic places.

In fact, Harry had plans. He knew exactly who he wanted for his researchers.

'_Those two will love the idea..._'

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

About a month after he was admitted, Harry Potter was released from Greater Whinging Hospital with a warning to be careful. Harry rolled his eyes at that one, but thanked the medical staff greatly. Harry always appreciated the efforts of those who helped him, and those who helped him for reasons other than his celebrity status had his gratitude tenfold.

He and his relatives had talked many times during his weeks in the Hospital, recovering from his abuse. They had come to an agreement of sorts, and Harry had forgiven his aunt and cousin. His aunt's poor treatment of him was because of truly limited options, while his cousin knew no better. By now, they were on amiable terms, and they planned to stay by his side while they could, providing the familial support he lacked through his younger years, and hopefully keeping him grounded.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry had made plans while bedridden, and the first of them included finding some way to reach Diagon Alley. However, the knight bus operated only during the nights, and he had no floo access anywhere nearby, he was forced to catch the train. Luckily, Petunia had a credit card to pay for their tickets, so they headed to London. They made it to London with little difficulty, and found the Leaky Cauldron, stopping in a clothes shop & a chemists en route. Harry now had no visible scar, and a whole new look. Nobody was likely to recognise the Boy-who-Lived for the duration of this trip. Harry, taking his relatives through the barrier, headed into Diagon Alley.

"Funny names your places have. Diagonally?" pointed out Dudley.

"Don't forget Nocturnally – Dark place that is." Harry smirked. His relatives sniggered.

"Right, well first were going to the bank." continued Harry.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry's relatives were interesting in their reactions to the goblins. Dudley's eyes bulged. "What the hell?" he whispered to Harry, tugging his sleeve like a three year old. Petunia's reaction intrigued Harry. She looked interested, without doubt, but not too surprised.

"Ah, Mr Potter," said the goblin, once Harry had shown his key to the warty creature in the booth. "we have been attempting to contact you for quite a while. May I enquire what kept you from providing a response? Normally, you should schedule an appointment for the matters of which we must speak."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. "I have been in hospital for the past..." Harry began to reply. "No, no," the goblin cut him off, "We cancelled all correspondence while you were in hospital, in accordance with the secrecy act, but we have been trying to get through to you for months, since before your exams. It's a good thing you came when you did. Come, follow me. Your relatives can come also." They were ushered into a medium sized room behind the booth.

"Why do you need me, and also why so soon?" He wondered aloud, once settled into one of the exceptionally comfortable chairs inside the fairly plain but comfortable office. He didn't ask about not receiving mail from them. Dumbledore probably sifted through everything. The only question is _why?._ While the man was evil, there was no reason to simply irritate Harry. That would achieve nothing..However, the matter would be clarified for Harry very soon.

"Mr Potter, you are to go through an inheritance ritual."

This confused Harry. There was two faults with this statement. One, hadn't all of Sirius' possessions been confiscated upon his arrest? Sirius was still a wanted fugitive to the ministry. Secondly, why would they have wanted him before the exams? It hadn't happened until midway during one of his last exams. He voiced confusion, although of a different type. He couldn't admit to knowing a convict, the ministry would see it as their chance to finally put Harry away. So he asked who he was inheriting from.

"Surely you did not believe that your trust fund was your only supply of monetary support left by your parents?"

_"Trust fund?"_

"Evidently you did..." Murmured the goblin, below his breath. He sighed. "Your parents set up a trust fund for casual spending, while the Potter vault would be under the control of your legal guardian. However, this failed to happen, due to Mr. Black's subsequent arrest and illegal imprisonment. Anyway, control must be returned to the Potter heir at the age of sixteen, otherwise the vault is forfeited. A family vault would normally be forfeited to the ministry, but in the case of an elite pureblood family vault, such as yours, it will be given to the Wizengamot. And therefore, Mr. Dumbledore. To be honest with you Mr. Potter, Dumbledore is a criminal. I myself have collected a great deal of information which may interest you about Mr. Dumbledore's dealings. The goblin council have read through it already, and decided they have no trust in this man. Therefore, we will limit any transactions that he makes, and all accounts he is in control of will be heavily monitored."

The Goblin handed Harry a file. Harry flicked through , it seeing a couple of photos, and a lot of script. "Thanks, I'll read through it later." 'This may come in useful... blackmailing Dumbles should be fun.'

"So, Mr Potter, as I am sure you are aware, you have reasonable grounds to take Albus Dumbledore to court. We can arrange a law firm to build an organised case against him. Do you wish to press charges at this time?" asked the goblin.

"Hmm... not yet I think. I think I will wait for the right moment, then strike. It will take a great deal of public slandering, and perhaps some tactful ministry donations. That will butter fudge up nicely... On that subject, how much money do I have?"

"At the moment, about twelve thousand galleons, but that will increase when your family wealth is added, of course. Liquid assets in your family vault come to approximately G:14,250,000. Or, if would rather, £121,250,000."

Harry whistled, Dudley's jaw dropped, and Aunt Petunia fainted.

After Dudley had been warned about catching flies, and Petunia had been picked up and soaked (Well, she had to be woken up somehow...), Harry asked "If those are liquid, what about invested?"

"Well, Mr Potter, This is a bit of a strange subject. We goblins a while ago chose to offer a service where we would invest a reasonable portion of the wealth. Your parents agreed, and we have been doing this for a while.

"I am currently the controller of those investments, and understand that for you, investments are about more than money. I decided to create a set-up where you would have a great deal of power over the world. Thus, You own the Daily Prophet (Although they don't know this yet), have controlling shares in the WWN, and own Hernan's Arms, which is a global magical and muggle weaponry store You also own many others, but those are simple investments, not strategic resources.

"Hernan's is the only one of these who know of your ownership. The England branch...well, door at least, is in an alley near Ollivander's. Not Knockturn though, this is Siecoe Path we are talking about. A useful place for those seeking... ah, _unique_ establishments.

"A muggle weaponry shop is almost unheard of in wizarding England, and various other shops are in that road. Most have never heard of it though, so you needn't worry about buying, shall we say, slightly more _questionable_ items than the norm, such as dark artefacts. No-one will see you, or at least, they won't care. Those loyal to the ministry are not welcome in Siecoe, for Siecoe tends towards anarchy more than anything else. T'is a fascinating place.

"I would recommend that you visit this place, for it is a place of great value to those who have visited it. To find it, you simply have to want to. There is a wall near the wand-makers that will vanish as you concentrate. Once you are through, it shall reappear. This road is spelled so only those who have no desire to go spilling the secrets of Siecoe to those who do not truly need it.

"By the way, Hernan's is a truly remarkable shop. You will understand why as you visit it. Now, I believe you wish to be acknowledged as the Potter heir. Very well."

The goblin led them to a simple room, with what looked like an old typewriter, made from copper, in the centre. However, there was a large hole in the top also.

Once Harry had, upon the goblin's direction, dripped a small droplet of his blood into the hole on top, the machine began to print out a list of assets;

Monies:

Main Vault G:14 390 780 S:4 K:8

Trust Vault : G:8 000

Stocks:

100 ownership, Daily Prophet, Newspaper – Worth App. G:3 000 000

100 ownership, Hernan's Arms, Weaponry store – Worth App G:90 000

78 majority, Wizarding Wireless Network – Worth App G:2 300 000

33 share, Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, Joke shop, Worth App G: 1300

(Various others were listed underneath here)

Charities:

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Artefacts:

The Potter Knives.

_Fenestrus_

The_ Claro Calx._

_The Celeritas armoury._

More artefacts, and other items of smaller interest was displayed, and then it asked a question. 'Do you wish to take up the reigns of Head of House Potter?' Harry typed 'Yes' into the keypad. 'State your name.' 'Harry James Potter.'

'Harry James Potter is now legally the Head of House Potter. Since he is now the head of a Noble House, he is emancipated with immediate affect. He is also granted the right given to a person of age twenty-one, in both the Muggle and wizarding Worlds. The statement of assets and charities has been perforated before this text. Please remove, as it will immediately, and automatically update depending upon the assets. If the statement is misplaced, inform the Gringotts staff of this, and they will ensure a new one is created.'

It then printed out several legal documents, such as a birth certificate, a statement of emancipation and a slip allowing the taking of his apparition test amongst others.

THUNK! A small compartment shot out of the machine, containing a key. 'This is the key to Vault 107 – Potter, Family. You already possess the key to Potter, Trust.'

"Come Mr. Potter, I believe you want to visit your vault."

"Yes, yes of course."

While in the cart transporting them to 107, Harry asked the goblin a question. "What is your name?"

"Grillkrup, Mr. Potter." he replied, looking slightly surprised. He was rarely noticed by wizards.

"Please, call me Harry. However, can I ask a question... Can you be a legal representative?"

"Do you wish me to represent you in court?" The goblin looked shocked. Nobody wanted goblins to do anything but banking.

"Of course, after all you found the dirt on Dumbledore, you seem to understand the legalities, and you haven't stood for what Dumbledore was doing even before I knew everything. Also, your forward planning impressed me hugely, for example, your investments made on my behalf. It will be very useful to have the media under my thumb, and some fire-power is useful as well."

"Thank you Mr. Potter. While a goblin cannot be a legal representative, I have heard of some loopholes in the legislations relating to this. For example, I could simply tell you what to say as you say it, because legally a goblin doesn't really exist. I could actually stand by your side, with my voice in your ear whenever you need it. The loophole is only there so we can be swiftly executed without repercussions, if need be (Rebellions, and such). However, Mr. Potter, you needn't worry. We have taken precautions against such a measure."

"In that case, would you like to be my... advisor? I want you to continue to deal with my legal affairs, my accounting, and possibly be a liaison to the goblins if need be. I won't deny my need to possibly make alliances."

"Of course Harry, and... thank you. A wizard giving responsibility to a goblin, _trusting_ a goblin, is a rare thing. I am honoured" said Grillkrup. He was beaming.

The cart arrived at their destination. "Well, Harry. We've arrived."

A huge door, with 107 carved into it in flamboyant lettering, slowly opened. The sight they saw when it opened made his eyes water...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**AN – Okay! Longest chapter yet! What do you think, do you like? If so, you know what you must do. Review! It's the only payment I get for this, and each review makes me so much happier. **

**Right, first two people to guess the narrator's name, win a small role/cameo in the story. By the way, there are two correct answers. If you get either of them, you are a winner Hint: He knows a great deal. Imagine how he knows that, while still no-one knows who he is. There is a hint in Philosophers stone, towards the end. **

**However, do note that you will not be included in the story straight away. Also, this competition will continue until the two reviewers have guessed correctly. No anonymous reviews as competition entries. This is to ensure people cannot enter again and again. While a flood of reviews would be nice (It always is), I don't want people firing off different characters at random, and also I need to contact you. But remember, if your e-mail is not on your profile I cannot contact you. I will not announce the winners, for I wish to keep the answer a secret for a while. Good Luck!**

**Polls!**

**So far, the Poll results are thus:**

**Poll 1**

**A:1, B:0, C:4**

**Thus, Harry will not remain with the Order of the Phoenix. He may join Voldemort, or start his own side.**

**Poll 2**

**DM:0, TMR:1, LM:1 RodLes:2, RemLup:0, SB:0**

**Thus, Draco, Remus and Sirius are out of the running. Voting is still open, but only vote for Rodolphus, Tom or Lucius, and for Poll 1, only vote for A or C. Please vote, people. If you enjoy this enough to review, I want to hear what your opinions are.**

_**27/06/05**_

**A7x Fan – **Thanks! It doesn't surprise me that 'muchos' was wrong. However, nobody would get 'Muy' ('cept you of course), and I didn't know 'Muy' anyway. Hey, I did french. Don't worry though, I'm always correcting inconsequential things, as well. That's why I do beta'ing as well as my own work.

**ERMonkey Burner of Cookies – **'Fraid I don't really like Seamus much. To be honest, I would rather an older lover for Harry. I only put in Draco because most people like that pairing. My personal fave is Rodolphus. I've never seen it before, and I like the idea. My damn unorthodox side kicking in again.

_**28/06/05**_

**Heather () - **I agree about Draco. He would be rather unsuitable for Harry's situation. I love Dumble-bashing & Dark!Harry. I don't know why, but I really like fics like Abandon by Batsutousai, and Turn of the Tides by Virginia Riddle-Malfoy (I actually beta this one, but I am currently going through the earlier chapters. I've sent her chapters 1-9, but I don't know if they've been posted.)

**Coulbauth – **Thanks!

**Sweet-Little-Yugi – **Wow! You're enthusiastic about this! Great! Anyroad... (stares into space & whistles)...Sorry, couldn't think of anything to say for a sec! Sorry! Anyway, I'm glad you like the idea of Rodolphus and tom. Those are my favourite two on my list. Draco's childish, Lucius is snobbish, Remus and Sirius are too... light-side, I suppose, for this fic. While he will be fighting for light morals, such as equality, others may not see it that way. My personal favourite is Rodolphus, but it was originally gonna be HP/TR. I thought of Rodolphus while I was writing the review responses, and added it.

**Skull Bearer – **To be honest, Bellatrix won't be too involved with the plot. If I go for Rodolphus (I plan to at the moment, he's winning the vote) I'll probably have Bella and Rodolphus as not much more than friends, with a possible TR/BL pairing, or perhaps SS/NM BL/LM. I'm, lad to hear your favourites would be Rodolphus and Tom, because those were mine as well, by a long way. First your kickass name, now your favourite pairings, I'm starting to like you more and more. You seem so very... _Slytherin. _As for your vote on the side that Harry joins, sadly, choice C is severely outvoting you. It's a shame, as my favourite was A as well. However, the way things are in my head, I can tell you one thing. I have no plan to have Harry actively oppose Voldemort. An alliance in the making?

**Aww... C'mon. I got loads for chapter 1. Why less for chapter 2? However, kudos to those who did review, and extra credit to ERMonkey Burner of Cookies & Skull Bearer. They reviewed both chapters, and thus, they get a cookie! A virtual intangible cookie, but a cookie none the less. Have fun burning, ERMonkey. **


	4. Chapter 4

_Prologue_

Perhaps I was too hasty. While the world does not want to allow Harry a well earned period of respite, he's determined to get it anyway. Hogwarts was his home, but it was a home built on lies and deceit. It was never meant as this when its stones were first conjured, when the wards were lovingly wrapped around the building. Will he choose to create his own home, and hide from the world? Or will he find a new place to live, where the people do not wish to use him as their weapon?

Harry is clever, and, while he doesn't note my presence, I often watch him in his lessons. I can be invisible, and I can be quiet. When I saw him teach a group of students, some older than he, when I heard of his gift to the red-haired Gryffindor twins, whenever I saw him fight, I saw a powerful young man, who needs guidance. Who knows, perhaps his Aunt and Cousin may provide it. Perhaps he may seek it from others. The one who taught a few years ago, perhaps. Who knows. Only one thing can be certain. He cannot trust Albus, and his original trust was due to excellent acting by the headmaster, and manipulation. One thing describes Albus in a nutshell; 'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.' The hidden serpent he is indeed. Harry should exercise caution, for he cannot provoke the serpent to strike. The chances of survival are grim indeed.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my weekends messing around withdeskfans to see if they will kill anyone when operated. Ah well...**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_The cart arrived at their destination. "Well, Harry. We've arrived." _

_A huge door, with 107 carved into it in flamboyant lettering, slowly opened. The sight they saw when it opened made his eyes water..._

This sight was actually... nothing. There was a good reason they could see nothing however, which was the blinding amount of dust pouring out of the door.

"Think I'll have to get the cleaners in soon..." said Grillkrup. "It has been a while since I last opened this one up."

"How does dust get in if the door is kept closed?" asked Harry.

"You know, I really have no idea." replied Grillkrup.

As Grillkrup pondered the mystery of dust, Harry was braving the storm (Dudley and Petunia were wisely staying away), and diving into the 'smoke'. "Grillkrup, can you do a spell on this? This dust is getting in my eyes,"

Grillkrup answered, "Goblin magic doesn't work like that. You need sigils, all sorts of things. Why don't you do it? Now you're emancipated, you are free to do magic at your own discretion."

Harry grinned happily, then used a fresh air charm to sort out the dust, and a targeted evanesco to clear the dust that had laid inside the vault. Now he could see clearly, he could tell one thing. This vault was weird. It looked like an mansion's entrance hall, with steps leading down from the entrance. It was grand, perhaps too gaudy for the tastes of most. Gold and jewels made up the décor, and any but a goblin or the Malfoys would be amazed, or at least interested. As it were, Grillkrup strode through the vault door, and headed to the far side. The room was rectangular, with the entrance on one side, a huge door opposite, and on the walls perpendicular to these, there were two small ordinary doors.

Grillkrup idly gestured to the door on the left, in passing, saying "Artefacts," then at the left, stating "Documentation", and they then arrived at the gold vault doors. "Money" said Grillkrup. There was a small machine, similar to a TV screen. It worked on touch screen, and allowed Harry to select any information. Menu choices included Money (Liquid), Money (Total), Money (Invested), Artefacts list, Charities list, and many others. This was a foray into the muggle-wizard technology that Harry had spoken of. Harry asked his advisor of this.

"Well, we had a human family working who had a squib in the family. He was a very good Computer Hardware Consultant in the muggle world, and thus was able to explain it to some of our people. This is our first success. While it is productive and very valuable, for yours is the only one, it is also fairly impractical. Goblins who understand technology, or even care about it are rare. Therefore, we never got very far.

"I personally find it fascinating, and love this. I heard it was based off a muggle 'ATM' but reacts to magical signature, rather than PIN number. It shouldn't matter much because it's in your vault so nobody is likely to steal, but we may have one placed outside one of these days. It would be much more efficient than going to vaults every time.

"You can actually withdraw money from it. It comes in bags with outwardly identical sizes, but are actually often the size of a pillowcase. They also have magical signature charms built in. This way, only you can take money from them. As you may have guessed, it is rather good business to prevent theft."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"GRILLKRUP!"

"Yes Harry?" Sighed Grillkrup, entering the Artefacts room after exiting the paperwork area.

The Artefacts room was like a library, with objects neatly stacked everywhere. In one corner, an entire set of armoured clothing, made of a fine mesh metal. Elsewhere, weapons, amulets and obscure items littered the shelves.

"What does this do?"

"Let me take a look." Grillkrup removed some tiny glasses from his pocket and perched them on his nose. He held the blade that Harry offered. He examined the ornate silver and diamond blade, with it's complex runes for a while. "Looks like one of the Potter knives. They're damn useful. They cut through anything except flesh or heavily enchanted metal. They are unbreakable, . They were invented by a pacifist who simply hated offensive tools. He was an excellent student, teacher and eventually headmaster at Hogwarts, was Quentin Potter. He is your seven times great-uncle."

"He actually made something similar for Gringotts. We give it to curse breakers as a sort of bonus. They keep it for one job, and then pass it on. It's currently our curse-breaker of the month prize. They love it, because they can travel through forests quickly, and even cut through minor locks and occasionally walls. You know what they say, if there isn't a door, make one." Grillkrup sniggered.

"Cool... So, is there anything else useful in here?"

"Pass me the list from earlier, I'll see if I recognize anything." Harry did so, and the goblin began to read.

"Bless my soul, the entire Celeritas Armoury. That will be so useful. Celeritas was a legendary scout mage. He would find and engage countless amounts of dark wizards. His clothing aided him greatly in this respect. Celeritas was an average student at Hogwarts, but excellent at quidditch and dueling. He was physically talented, but his spellwork wasn't exceptional. Make no mistake, he was above average, but nothing legendary in that respect. Potters are always powerful. However, once he left school he made a large withdrawal from the vault, and travelled across the world for a while. He fell in with a group of Dwarves, and eventually became a master armourer. He created the Celeritas armoury. Each item has a different use."

They walked over to the fine mesh armour in the corner. "See these shoes, they are enchanted for extra speed. These gloves increase your reflexes. This chestplate can block a hit from just about anything, and the only thing which can cut it is a potter knife, actually."

"When Celeritas died surrounded by his family, of natural causes, he bequeathed it to his sons, where they would take a share of the armour each. However, none had the same talent with the items as their father, and these wonderful items faded from knowledge. I heard your reflexes are spectacular. Perhaps you will be the one to bring glory to these items once again?"

"I really do hope so" said Harry

"Now," muttered Grillkrup, reading the list again. "Hmm... what do we have here?" Grillkrup raised his voice to normal speech. "The legendary _claro calx_ of Everard Potter. He was a muggleborn who married into the family but took the name of Potter for his own and is your 5 times great grandfather, and nephew in law to Quentin, by the way. Quentin taught him a great deal, and now Everard is famed greatly throughout the world. The Claro Calx, or Clarity Stone is a simple rock, which, when in your possession, will greatly increase your intellect. It will improve your ability to comprehend, remember and learn. I advise you carry this at all times, because it also speeds up your thinking, allowing for wise split second decisions. That may save your life, and this stone was one of the reasons why Everard was noted as wise and unbelievably intelligent."

Grillkrup wandered over to a shelf and plucked from it a rock which was... strange. It looked peculiar, but he couldn't work out why. "It looks strange, Harry, because it isn't actually made of rock. It is solid platinum, as that is the only substance he knew which could take the stress of so much magic. The glamour charm would not be noticed by most, but you are greatly powerful. Everard was worried about the possible theft of the stone as it was made from such a precious metal. Thus, he chose to make it look mundane and ordinary. He was a Slytherin through and through." He passed the rock to Harry, who took it and placed it in his pocket. He was in no mood to interrupt the goblin now he was in the full flow. He was still trying to comprehend everything he had been told over the past half-hour or so.

Over the next hour, Harry was told of many other 'gadgets'. One of his favourites was Everard's other creation, Fenestrus. This was a simple mirror, seemingly (Everard loved to disguise items, he saw it as a challenge). However, stick it to a surface less than three feet thick, and it became a window seeing through the wall or door as the case may be. However, no visible affect was had upon the other side of the surface. Thus, Fenestrus was the ultimate spy tool. It also allowed for a small amount of sound to travel through, which was enough to be audible from close up.

Harry left the room grinning, but stopped when he saw his Aunt and Cousin sat at an elegant mahogany table, drinking tea from gold rimmed china cups. "Ermm... What the hell? I didn't those there..." Grillkrup gave him his answer "This room is like a modified version of a certain room in Hogwarts. Any idea what I'm talking about?"

"Room of Requirement?"

"Bingo. However, this one was made by one not so strong as the founders combined, and thus is not as good as that version. This can handle small needs, such as food."

"That explains it, but why did they suddenly decide they needed tea in expensive cups?"

"Don't ask me, I'm a goblin. I hate tea."

Harry shrugged.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

After a refreshment break, where Harry chatted with his relatives on his new discoveries, Harry ended up in the paperwork room.

"Well, Harry. I've been doing a little research while you were in artefacts, and found a few thing that may interest you. However, first things first. I've dealt with the paperwork, and various other things that needed attention. Now you will find everything in order."

"Excellent. It's good to know my account is in such.. _capable _hands. I hope you will continue to keep such good care of my finances."

"I certainly plan to Mr Potter... Anyway, I've discovered you have several properties. The largest of these, and also the most protected, was Godric's Hollow. This has obviously been damaged, but not beyond repair. Also, you have a penthouse suite in New York, and a villa Madrid. Your ancestors always liked to be in the commercial world capitals. Godric's Hollow is the exception, however, this was built by Godric Gryffindor himself, who was related to the Potters. When he died, it was passed down amongst the Potter line, and eventually used as your parents home/hideaway. You also have a fairly grand house, in a street linking to Diagon Alley. It has five bedrooms, and so I have heard, very expensive decoration and fittings. Finally, as well as the quarter stake you own in Hogwarts due to your Gryffindor heritage, you own Durmstrang."

**"What!"**

"Yep, it is surprising isn't it?"

Dudley's voice echoed into the room from the doorway. "What's Durmstrang?"

"It's a school in Bulgaria."

"A wizarding school?"

"Yep. In fact, I think I'll head there. Come with me, I'll find something for you to do there. Perhaps potion making, it doesn't need any wizarding abilities."

"Harry?" Aunt Petunia walked in from outside

"Yes?" "I have to ask you something, now I know you own a magical school. This is about you, Dudley. Dudley, I'm really sorry, but you should have been given a magical education. Since I had actually replied to your's, and not Harry's, we didn't got totally covered with letters for you."

"What, why did you refuse?"

"Dud, think about it. Uncle Vernon would have treated you awful as well. She couldn't do anything about me, as my parents had already applied for my education there. She couldn't go against that. However, Aunt Petunia, as for your question, of course he can."

"I haven't asked the question yet,"

Harry interrupted "It's kinda obvious. Dudley, how do you feel about a formal education at Durmstrang Institute of Wizardry?"

"Y-yes, of course. Thanks..." Dudley stuttered, in shock that he was going to learn to use magic.

"Thank you Harry."

"Aunt Petunia, were you magical?"

"What?"

"Answer it."

Petunia sighed. "Ok, fine, I was but got expelled in sixth year. Most people don't remember Holly Evans, sister of Lily. I was a Slytherin. Petunia is really my middle name."

"So that's why you weren't surprised at the goblins?" asked Dudley. Harry was impressed, even with Dudley's own amazement, he managed to note his mother's lack of it. "Because you'd seen them before?"

"Well, no actually, but close. I've never been to Gringotts before, but Lily mentioned them. James took her once."

"Why did Dumbles expel you?"

"There was a boy called David Gudgeon, who was a Gryffindor. Your father knew him, but didn't seem to like him much. He was a bit of an obsessive hanger-on."

"Sounds like Creevey. Wait a sec, is this the same Davey Gudgeon who nearly lost an eye because of the Whomping Willow?"

"Yes... He claimed I pushed him into it, and despite my protests, as well as Lily and the marauders, Dumbledore was adamant. I was expelled, and my wand was snapped. I changed my name to my middle name, so people would think I was a normal muggle rather than a witch. Nobody knew my name now except the marauders and Lily. And, of course, my ex-boyfriend. We were in love, but we had to break up when I was expelled. There were no hard feelings though. I wouldn't have coped if there was."

"He was a pureblood, and being seen with a disinherited pureblood such as myself would mean disgrace. Me, you, Lily, we would fit in the pureblood elite. However, Vernon was every inch a muggle, and thus Dudley, you are not pureblooded. It doesn't really matter though, purity of blood is just an excuse for snobs to be stuck up little swines."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Meanwhile, while Petunia was reminiscing upon her days in the wizarding world, an old wizard with a kindly face but an ruthless heart in a castle in Scotland was murmuring to himself. He found it helped him think. "Hmm... I've got Black out of the way, I've got his parents out of the way. Now, who might give him guidance against mine? Certainly not his traitorous friends, they will simply lead him to me. There are no flaws in my plan, and I have yet another pawn. Soon, he will come to me and only me for guidance. His power, once added to my own, will enable me to claim what I have been fighting for all these years. "

While there were no professors but him at the castle right now, and only one other staff member (Filch), speaking these words aloud was a mistake. While no man was around to hear it, a female did.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**I really hope is isn't just me who loved the paragraph about dust(giggles, then looks at himself in horror. 'I am so camp on the internet. Not in person though. Nope, not me...'). I've got a weird sense of humour, and it comes out in full force in my fics, occasionally anyway.**

**Just for the record, this fic will now become AU! It will ignore HBP completely, because doing otherwise would mean starting again.**

**The quote "Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't" is Shakespeare, but the idea of using itwas Batsutousai's. She quotes it at some point in Abandon (do read this fic, it's brilliant.There's a link on my faves.)**

_**Nobody entered my last competition? Why? (Sighes) It's in the author's note at the end of chapter 3. C'mon, at least have a shot. It's not hard if you read the clues, there's an absolute load.**_

**_First person to guess the female at the end, wins a prize, possibly a small role/cameo in the story__. Let the games begin! _**

_**This competition will continue until the reviewer has guessed correctly No anonymous reviews as competition entries. This is to ensure people cannot enter again and again. While a flood of reviews would be nice (It always is), I don't want people firing off different characters at random, and also I need to contact you. But remember, if your e-mail is not on your profile I cannot contact you. I will not announce the winner, for I wish to keep the answer a secret for a while. When the answer is part of the story, then I will announce the winner.**_

**Polls!**

**So far, the Poll results are thus:**

**Poll 1**

**A:3**

**C:5**

**Poll 2**

**TMR:2**

**LM:2**

**RodLes:3**

**I just want to clarify something. This poll does not guarantee that I will select the choice that come through. I simply want to know who would be agreeable with the general plans. If my idea goes down in flames completely, I may rethink. However, my idea is still well and truly part of this vote.**

_**02/07/05**_

**ERMonkey Burner of Cookies – **Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed your cookie :). Dumbledore is definitely a criminal, the charges against him are huge. He will have to character assassinate him first. That's what he needs the Daily Prophet and the WWN for. Also, thats why he wants the ministry under his thumb. First reviewer for my new chapter! You've reviewed them all so far, so you get another cookie! The rate you and Skull-Bearer are going, I'm gonna run out of cookies by the end of the fic! Even the intangible ones (nods).

**Sweet-Little-Yugi – **I was hoping I'd be the first for Harry/Rodolphus. I love being unique, and successfully stepping away from the well-trodden path, being a first, is worth a great deal to me.Now, onto your writing problem.I used to have that problem, then I found a way around it... I write a real big chapter, split it into two, call the first part chapter one, and then don't upload chapter 2 until chapter 3 is done. I updated with chapter three as soon as I got the chapter you've just read finished. If you keep one chapter, the desire to upload it, and get more reviews, is enough to convince you to write more. Just keep to the routine, because as soon as you break it, the resolve is gone. After all, I've actually just finished writing chapter five.

**SkullBearer** **–** You and ERMonkey have come through for me again! I love you guys! On a different topic, I'm glad you will enjoy the story, whichever direction it goes. However, for being such a good reviewer, I will give you a little hint as to how this is planned out in my head. I will probably end up going somewhere half-way between A & C, and have Harry meet Rodolphus. Obviously, things will escalate from there. That's how my plans are going for the moment. I really want a Harry/Rodolphus fic. I've seen just about every other pairing but this one, and I want to be able to say mine is the first Harry/Rodolphus fic.

**Ladydarkness45, Lord Master Omega, doggoneit, thanks for reviewing and voting. :)**

**Remember, I want reviews. If you want to enter one of my competitions, if you want to join a poll, (basically one vote per chapter - Which has to be cast in the latest chapter, incidentally, you can't skip back, review all four, then totally tip the balance), if you want to ask questions about the fic (or even me, althoughI don't guarantee an answer!), any other reason except flaming. I really want reviews, because it gives me something to help me look forward to the end ofthe college day soI can check my e-mail (Can't do it at college, I'll lose internet). If you are an author, you will understand how much it means to come home and see the little 'New E-Mails' counter flashing up with four or five. It's a great feeling to know you're appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Prologue_

The days are numbered for the Headmaster. The truth is coming out, and soon people will know his crimes. The grandfatherly act is being seen through, and people will soon end him. Many a time I've heard of the attacks he's planned, to provoke fear in the hearts of the ordinary, and only the extra-ordinary can stop him. There are two men left who can truly oppose him, and alone the cannot win. His experience outnumbers theirs, and his two opponents are still at odds with each other. Only when the olive branch is extended, will Voldemort and Harry ally. One must make the first move, and until this happens, the war will continue.

While Voldemort may have not killed Harry's parents, he still is not a kind and generous man. He is a general, arrogant and in control. His ideals are beneficial to mankind, but he believes the ends justify the means, so long as more lives are saved than lost. Harry will be at odds with him even if he joins his ranks, for their personalities clash. Voldemort cannot allow himself to indulge in the small pleasures that bring great gratification, for he must be strong. However, by alienating himself from other people, he will eventually turn dark. Blocking human emotions destroys the soul, and this cannot happen. If it did, the two most experienced and powerful wizards in humankind will indulge in an all-destroying battle for dominance.

Only Harry could stop this. Harry must restrain voldemort, and exert control. Lack of progress has caused discontent amongst Voldemort's troops, and they are sliding from his grasp. If the army of Voldemort dissipates, Harry is on his own...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my spare time making sure nobody gets killed by their coffee machines. Ah well...**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry blinked as he and his relatives stepped from Gringotts into the bright sunshine. Harry looked up and down the street, savouring the view. It had been a while since he'd last been here, and considering his new plans, a while till he'd return. Luckily, there was a nice shopping centre in Greece, and so he would not have to struggle to shop. Durmstrang is situated on the Bulgaria-Greece borderline, and thus the Thessaloniki Wizarding Complex was a short apparition away.

He had various things he needed to deal with while in London. He knew for a fact that Hernan's did not have a branch in Thessaloniki, and he planned to organise another branch being opened. He also wanted to make stops at his various companies to make some long needed staff adjustments. With these goals in mind, he set off down Diagon, his aunt and cousin following behind.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Oy, Gred, Forge. I need to talk."

"Ah good sir, how corking of you to join us. Fancy a spot of supper? We have some excellent Earl Grey brewing..." replied the Weasley twins, in their strange mock-British accent.

Harry sniggered, "No, we're fine. I need to talk business."

"Oh how dull," they said, somehow exactly at the same time.

"Not this business. Trust me on this."

Fred Weasley, slowly twisted his head, to look his brother in the eyes. George Weasley, in perfect sync, did exactly the same. Both raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked, still in awe of the incredible knowledge of each other that the two had.

"Just comes naturally, Harry mate."

"You two are weird."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Right, first question. What are you doing here, with the Dursleys, in fact?"

"We aren't Dursleys anymore," said Petunia and Dudley, at exactly the same time. They looked at themselves in surprise.

"How come everyone has a 'twin' but me?" Harry pouted.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Anyway, my relatives are here because we patched things up. I'm here because I need to go shopping." Harry said.

"Yeah, but we thought Dumbledore asked you to stay in Privet Drive. Surely you shouldn't go against him."

"Goddammit you sound like Herm! Anyway, there are a few things you don't know about Dumbledore. They overrule any orders he has given me. Anyway, what use does staying at Privet Drive have? It isn't the house that protects me. It's my aunt. She's right here."

"You're got a point, but surely he has a reason for all this. Maybe he put up wards of his own?" Fred replied, sounding slightly doubtful.

Harry shot that straight down. "You can put more powerful wards on a smaller object, such as a ring, and then charm it so it can't be taken off. That would have kept me safe at Hogwarts as well."

George sounded desperate as he said, "But surely he has a reason..." he trailed off. Harry was holding a photo of Dumbledore obliviating them from the file Grillkrup had given him. His mouth shut softly, and all traces of desperation left his face.

They turned to him, slight curiosity on their face. "Can we trust a man like Dumbledore? I'm starting to doubt he had a good reason for that..."

"Fred, George, that is the least of his crimes, my friends. I'm leaving Hogwarts. I'm turning from him, and when the time is right I will have him arrested. That man will pay for his transgressions."

"Isn't arresting him a bit harsh?" Asked one of the twins, who had a bit of unease returning to his face. "Shouldn't you make allowances for his dedication to the light?"

"No. That man is not dedicated to the light." Harry then voiced a thought that had been buzzing around in his head for days. "Is that man light at all, or is he a con who simply wishes us to believe he isn't trying to gain an inexorable power over us? To be honest, I'm not sure that Voldemort is as bad as he is portrayed."

Fred and George looked slightly sceptical about this statement. "No matter how bad Dumbledore is, Voldemort is worse."

George looked to add something to Fred's outburst, but Harry beat him to it. "Did you know Dumbledore killed a Marauder, and ordered the death of another?"

George's mouth shut. "You mean, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs?" Fred stuttered.

"Damn right. You've met Padfoot and Moony. Padfoot was killed on Dumbledore's orders, and Prongs he shot the curse at himself."

Fred and George looked thunderstruck and torn, and slightly confused. However, they were never stupid, and thus realised who Padfoot and Moony were. "Sirius and Remus were part of the marauders!" When Harry replied with a nod, they said "Explains a lot, we suppose. Who was Prongs."

"Dad."

"What!"

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

When the Weasley twins had gotten over their shock at finding Harry was a second generation marauder, they slowly came to realise what Harry had just said. "Did you just say your father was killed by Dumbledore?" Fred asked wide-eyed, while George gazed slack jawed at Harry, sputtering slightly.

"Yes. As was mum. Voldemort made no attack, my guess is that he attacked Godric's Hollow, then Voldemort. Voldemort was not killed properly as Dumbledore was too drained, after killing my parents..." By the end of this last sentence, Harry's fists were clenched in his anger, and small pulses of power were shooting away, knocking things off shelves, and cracking glass shelves. His aunt placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Harry looked into her face, which bore a gentle smile. He slowly calmed down, and managed to get a proper hold over his magic. "Sorry guys," Harry apologized. "It's just that I really get furious when I think about it."

"Don't worry Harry, you paid for this in the first place. We still haven't gone through all the funding you gave us, and the business is worth almost four times that now." Fred and George were trying to change topic, as although they were extremely curious, they knew that they would get little more of importance, and also didn't want to upset their friend.

"You fund all this?" asked Dudley. "This place is awesome."

"Yeah, I'd just won a competition, worth a thousand galleons. At the current rate, that's £8500. I gave them it on the train home. This was at the end of fourth year. By the way guys," - Here he addressed the twins - "Whenever you need more, just ask. I know you'll spend it wisely, after all, you've done excellent so far. One bit of advice, hire Remus. After all, he's one of the few remaining marauders, and might be able to teach you something. He has a wicked side, that can't be denied"

"Cheers Harry."

"Right, Anyway I have a proposition for you. I think you'll like it, as if it works, you will be forever known, and probably become two of the richest people in existence." Throughout Harry's declaration, Fred & George grew more and more dumbstruck. By the end, they were almost drooling. They were businessmen, and would be forever.

Harry told them his suggestion, and their eyes began to cloud over with ideas. While it was a challenge which had been pored over a little, no major research had been carried out. They could finally change that. They could be pioneers.

"We need to get the patents. We heard a while ago that some small American company has them, but we could buy them. They couldn't come up with any ideas worth working with, and gave up after a while. They would probably sell the patents. However, we'd need a few thousand galleons more. I know it's expensive, but the fact is that the returns could be incredible."

"No probs guys," Harry chuckled, "Just don't give me the details. I'm your sponsor, not a businessman. Anyway, I'm filthy rich. In fact, I'll set up a sub account from my main accounts, and put a lump sum in there. You'll get the key to it. I'll even ask my banker to top it up every month if it is too low."

The Weasley twins were beaming. "Consider it a belated birthday present. I didn't get you anything last year." Harry continued.

"You didn't have to Harry, a thousand galleons the year before would suffice for all of our birthdays. By the way, do you actually know our birthday?"

"Not for certain, but I can make a good guess."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"So, you two. How's Ron and Herm been?"

Fred and George looked at each other a little worried. "Well, to be honest, they are completely self centred prats. They got together, and now they've had a really bad effect on each other. Hermione's getting bitchy, and Ron's got a stick so far up his arse, preaching the values of Great God Dumbledore."

Harry hung his head. He knew this would happen eventually, their personalities suited it. He'd been dreading this day for a year or so, since Ron pitched his jealousy fit in fourth year over the Triwizard. In truth, he'd known Ron was shallow, but simply could not bring himself to break friends with him. Hermione got on his nerves a little as well, whenever he was around her. She grated him down, and irritated him to no end, not to mention the little put-downs, based on how much more smart she supposedly was.

"The bastards are really getting at you. It's strange really, but these days they say you are being melodramatic about everything, and playing for sympathy." It didn't surprise Harry, as Ron never knew what it was like to lose a loved one.

"He said, and I quote 'It's not like he knew Sirius, I knew him as well as Harry and I'm not moping. He sulked all through the end of last year and expected sympathy from us.' When we heard that, we expected Hermione to snap at him for being so callous. She didn't. She nodded."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"They never knew Sirius even nearly as much as I did..."

"We know Harry, we know."

"I knew him, years ago. He was a good man, so full of life," Said Petunia. "When he was blamed for James and Lily's death, there was nothing anyone could do. I knew he wasn't the secret keeper, but Dumbledore ignored me. When he surfaced again, I used the excuse of being scared of him as a reason to treat you better, that Vernon couldn't refute."

"I never realised you knew about these sort of things. Damn it, since when have you been so understanding?" Harry chuckled weakly, then burst into tears.

Petunia drew the teen into a gentle hug, and let him cry onto her shoulder.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

The twins had left Harry and his relatives in the back of the shop, which served as half office, half lab. The returned to the shop, and proceeded to continue business. Luckily, they now had an assistant, who had been helping out in the shop, in return for a rather excellent wage.

"Hey Lee!"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go round the back, we've got a friend in there who needs leaving alone for a while."

Lee shrugged and got back to work.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry had dried his eyes, and was slowly catching a hold upon his emotions. The raging sadness inside him, which minutes ago was driving him to choked sobs, was fading and leaving a slightly lightened burden. Before now he had been able to talk about Sirius easily, but the emotion came to a head for the second time this summer. Now it was released, his guilt and sadness was lightened. There would be more episodes like this one, but they would steadily decrease in number.

Now, he had family to help him through. His cousin was still walking on eggshells a little with Harry; he really didn't know much about comforting people. His mother was best for that. Every time Dudley was upset when he was younger, his mum would come into his room, wrap him in a hug and whisper comforting platitudes. Now it was Harry's turn for the familial comfort. While some would be jealous, Dudley knew Harry needed it, and had never had it before.

Dudley smiled as he saw his cousin calming down and wiping his eyes. He knew his cousin was strong, and understood that he was going through more than Dudley would ever suffer. Dudley knew that some of it was due to him. He was doing what he could, but only by being strong for him would he truly help.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

They were finally out of WWW and were now on the way to look at one of Harry's other investments; Hernan's.

And, typical to the strangeness of the Wizarding world, Siecoe 'Path' was actually a sort of weird Italian-esque staircase/alley. Which is strange really, since the supposed Diagon 'alley' was actually a wide, clean street, in truth the width of a small motorway. So not really an alley. And Siecoe 'Path' isn't a path either. Someone just had a strange sense of humour while naming it. Ah well.

Anyway, back to the point, the entrance is near Ollivanders. It would have been helpful is Grillkrup had given specific direction. Harry, in his euphoria over his new-found independent situation, had forgot. And, as anyone who has been hunting for a second-rate caravan park in Cornwall will know, when you get within two miles of the end of your journey, and are simply told 'It's around here', you tend to panic and lose all sense of direction. Which kinda happened to Harry.

"Where is this street then, Harry?" asked Petunia. "I've never been there before."

"..." Harry oh-so-eloquently replied.

"So, you don't know then?" sighed Petunia.

"Not really..." replied Harry, looking sheepish.

"Look, you're going about this the wrong way." Interrupted Dudley. "If that giant bloke hadn't been with you when you went to that dingy little pub place, the one where you get through to here, how would you have spotted it?"

"I dunno..."

"Simple. Look for something no-one else is looking at. Whatever they ignore, is your place."

Harry gaped at Dudley. "That is a brilliant piece of logic"

"I know," Dudley inflated with pride, and then rapidly deflated with a yelp when Harry poked him in the side then ran off giggling.

Dudley and Petunia looked at each other, identical expressions of resignment, and a tinge of humour. They then shrugged, in sync with each other once again.

"Stop it, stop it. Fred & George are twins. They're allowed to be on the same wavelength. But not you two as well!" Harry yelled, pulling his relatives away from each other in an attempt to break this slightly scary connection between those two. He then situated himself between them, trying in vain to be able to stop any of this, this _weirdness_.

Minutes later, Harry got prodded in the side by a fairly pudgy finger. "Ouch!" Harry glared at his cousin.

"Payback!" chirped Dudley cheerfully.

Harry walked off in a huff. Petunia and Dudley grinned at each other.

"Nooo! Stop it, it's not right!" Harry cried.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Genius theory, Dudley," grumbled Harry after Dudley's logical streak proved a little less useful than hoped. After visiting three petshops, and accidentally breaking into a small empty shop with 'For sale' above the door.

"Look, we're here now aren't we? Whinging sod..." Dudley finished the statement under his breath. After all, Harry had bony fingers. He had to look after himself, didn't he?

The sight which greeted them, was...

quiet, Harry supposed...

It had a weird sort of emptiness which made it clear that there was plenty there, it was just hiding...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**Anyone get the _"No, but I can guess."_ line, about fredngeorge's birthday? If you don't know their birthday, you should. You shouldn't even need telling.**

**Anyway, the Polls are now closed, and as far as I remember, the results are thus:**

**Should Harry:**

**1. Start his own side – 6**

**2. Join Voldie – 4**

**3. Stay with Order of the Burnt Poultry, but depose Dumbledore – 0**

**Pairing:**

**1. Rodolphus Lestrange - 3**

**2. Thomas Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort) – 2**

**2. Lucius Malfoy – 2**

**3. Other – 1 (Seamus)**

**4. Draco Malfoy - 0**

**4. Remus Lupin - 0**

**4. Sirius Black - 0**

**Next on the agenda:**

**Why is nobody entering the competitions? The Narrator question is not difficult, because there are two completely different right answers.**

**The questions are - **

**1. Who is the Narrator (the guy from the prologue)?**

**2. Who is the female from the end of last chapter?**

**Question two will close once I post the next chapter. It is part of the plot, and thus I cannot hold onto it. Please, have a go. You might win a role in the story, or perhaps an early chapter. I always write one chapter ahead of what I'm posting. In fact, if you want, you can design a OC that I will use.**

_**18/07/05**_

**Huggiebear – **Thanks! The artefacts, well, every fic should have those sort of things. I personally love the little window, _Fenestrus_. What can I say, I'm a gadget nut :)

**Sweet-Little-Yugi – **Thanks for reviewing again!This is the first story I know where Petunia is magical. While Dudley being a wizard is fairly common, I thought Petunia was being overlooked. After all, in the real series she seems to know a little bit more than she lets on. Hope the writing works for you... good luck.

**lmill123** – I'm afraid you've got a few details wrong – I probably was a bit confusing. Dumbledore, while talking about the 'other' pawn, that was just how I wrote it. He was talking about Harry. Also, Voldemort hasn't been working with Dumbledore. It's Dumbledore using his political power to discredit Voldemort. Voldemort is trying to improve the wizarding world, rather than gain power. Originally, in my head anyway, Voldemort wasn't considered evil, just a rebel. Then Dumbledore committed murder, pretending to be Voldemort. After all, nobody has actually really heard what Voldie has to say, and knowing the wizarding world, if he denied it he would have been ignored and executed. He is fighting against bad judicial systems.

It is admittedly true that Voldemort and Harry have fought, but this was Voldemort fighting an enemy. At the time of the fights, Harry supported Dumbledore, and thus Voldie had to fight him. Voldemort is ruthless, and would kill Harry simply because Harry supported Dumbledore. Now Harry is against Dumbles, and thus Voldemort has little quarrel with him.

As to imprisoning Dumbledore... That will be rather difficult for Harry. All major cases seem to go before the wizengamot, and therefore Dumbledore's friends. The Wizarding World is unfair, and therefore would not change the laws to make it easier to convict someone with a major position in the courts. Also, they would most likely refuse to even hear a case against Dumbledore until people start to believe in his wrongdoing. Also, would prison really keep him? However, I do agree, he does deserve punishment.

Right, first person to pay attention to the competitions, so thanks for that. However, one hint is given in the Dumbledore scene. The only staff there is Filch, and he is certainly not female. There are 'staff' there, but these staff members are always overlooked.

Whew, that took a while to type. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you like!

**Kira6 – **Whoa, that was sudden. For some reason, when I read that, I burst out laughing. After all, I've never had a one word review before!

By the way, Chapter 4 had an error. While I will not go through reposting it (at least not yet) I will show the error, to avoid confusion here:

Harry left the room grinning, but stopped when he saw his Aunt and Cousin sat at an elegant mahogany table, drinking tea from gold rimmed china cups. "Ermm... What the hell? I didn't **_see_** those there **_a minute ago_**..." Grillkrup gave him his answer "This room is like a modified version of a certain room in Hogwarts. Any idea what I'm talking about?"

**Hmm... Only four reviews this chapter (My lowest so far). I hope that's just because everyone was reading Half-Blood Prince!**


	6. Chapter 6

_Prologue_

I, personally, have nothing against muggles. Of course, certain circumstances prevent me from meeting many, but the ones I've met seemed decent, hard-working people (when they weren't trying to set me on fire of course). Obviously, somebody was a bit annoyed at muggles not knowing about us, which is how the whole Dark Lord idea came about, somebody who wants to destroy al muggles. Why does nobody but me seem to realise that that would be pointless. What would it achieve? Everybody believes that Voldemort wants to kill, maim and enslave all muggles.

No offence, anyone, but you are all idiots for believing that. How is it possible! There's billions of them! There's only thousands of us, and we are so spread out that we haven't got a chance. Another important fact is that, in truth, they're way better at killing than we are. One in a hundred wizards can cast Avada Kedavra, whereas a muggle picks up a gun and presses a trigger. Yes, we can cast protego – If we notice the muggle hiding a few hundred metres away. Hmph. Not likely. What use is a shield if you don't see the bullet? So killing is out of the question.

Maiming, simply takes ages. I should know, because in my youth I did it from time to time after they irritated me, (after all, some people are so dimwitted!), and a good maiming takes at least twenty minutes.

Enslaving, what would be the point? It takes a muggle hours to do a job we can wave a stick at, and achieve instantly. Nobody, frankly needs a muggle to do it for us, least of all Voldemort. He's powerful, he can do more of these tasks and quicker than anyone else. There would be nothing achieved, if Voldemort was chasing these goals. He cannot kill many of them, he doesn't have time to maim the all, and enslaving them would be pointless.

I suppose what I'm trying to say, is that there is a loose thread. Pull at it for too long, and the whole jumper unwinds. Harry's used to pulling threads, what with the old clothes he wears. But for once, this thread he has to tug at, until Dumbledore's illusion falls apart...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my weekends sticking screwdrivers in stuff or hitting walls with hammers (actually, the latter is rather fun). Ah well...**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Well, shall we go to Hernan's then?"

At the nods Harry received from Dudley and Petunia, he took a step forward. And everything went strange. While looking at the shocked faces of his upside-down relatives, he burst into laughter.

Ten seconds later...

"Oh, I love this charm," He said through the occasional muffled giggle. He'd just about cleared up the laughter, and then took a step forward. Nothing happened, his relatives' faces were still upside-down to him.

"Bugger."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"You now, I'm getting a sinking feeling the Wizarding world was meant for me." declared Dudley, and took a step. Everything turned normal. "You weren't upside-down Harry, we were. Sounds like whoever made this street was a..."

"Psychopath?"

"Exactly. Anyway, they'd probably done something to stop you realising who was upside-down.."

"Makes sense, a notice-me-not charm targeted to a fact though, rather than a tangible object, that's a genius bit of charmwork." Muttered Harry.

"Notice-me-not? Which creative genius came up with that name?" snorted Dudley, who obviously did not think that the particular charm met the usual wizarding criteria for naming, as in: weird.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry had taken three steps down the street, planning to find the shops fairly quickly, yet whoever designed the street were intent on making idiots out of it's less experienced or wary visitors. Harry fell for the oldest trick in the book – he fell down a manhole. And it took bloody ages to get out of, as well.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Am I the only one who thinks that finding anything in this street is a real bugger?" said Dudley.

A slightly soggy (the manhole was filled with soapy water, for no reason at all) Harry turned and glared at him. "No, because in case you haven't noticed, we've both been here for the past hour as well, looking for the shop. Geez!" Petunia was looking a tad frazzled, and a bit stressed. Understandably, considering Harry and Dudley had been at this all afternoon. Harry had a short fuse, and Dudley, well, he was either a bit dim, or winding Harry up. Probably a bit of both, she mused. Something's got to rub off from Vernon, and anyway, for the past few years Dudley really didn't put in any effort. It was overall lucky he would be going to a magical school, as nobody would expect him to be at a certain level.

Harry's naturally short fuse was shrunk by the hot weather, and the tediousness of the task. And Holly Petunia Evans-Dursley decided something. She'd had enough.

She turned on her heel, planning on just shouting the boys, and letting them follow. She looked up, opening her mouth to call their names. And saw the one most ironically timed sight of her life;

Hernan's weaponry store. It was a small building, a tiny thatched cottage really.

"Harry, Dudley, shut the hell up and get over here." Their heads snapped up at the call, and both blushed at the admonishment. They followed Petunia into the shop, feeling decidedly sheepish. However, when they opened the door, all they saw through it was black. They froze, completely astonished.

"What the hell?" breathed Harry. He reached forward, and touched the inky blackness. He felt a strange prickling leading up his arm, and and experienced the sensation that he'd pushed into someone's memories, via a penseive. The sucking in feeling was the same.

He got a very strange feeling of being sucked for miles, and yet only travelling for a few seconds.

He landed on his feet, his relatives following closely behind.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

The sight that greeted the previous residents of number 4 Privet Drive, upon entering Harry's investment, was awesome. They looked around, seeing racks of guns, swords, a shield department, and various traditional and cultural weapons. A couple of people were breezing round the shop, or talking to staff assistants. The shop appeared to be endless, with stacked boxes above the displays reaching higher than the ceiling in the Hogwarts great hall.

"Can I help you?" asked a man with scruffy light-brown hair, a cigarette out of a corner of his mouth, and an arm in a sling.

Harry and his relatives span round. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter." Harry stopped here, not really knowing what to say after that. Luckily, the man was informed of the ownership change.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I was informed you would be dropping around soon by the goblins in London. My name's Hernan, I'm currently the manager, and previous owner." He reached out to Harry with his good hand, which Harry accepted in a firm handshake. "Fancy a tour, _boss_?" Grinned Hernan. "That'd be great, thanks _underling._" They shared a smirk. Petunia and Dudley exchanged a look.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Hernan was like a kid in a candy store, dashing round with statements like, "Ah, this department was added a couple of years back," or "You'll love this, just imported from china, dates back to twelfth century,". By the end of the tour they had visited various weird departments, such as Asia, which had a huge stock of various weapons from the legendary warriors of oriental Asia, such as Samurai and Ninja. Weapons included ninja-to, Katanas, and even a set of claws built into a glove. Each weapon could be bought with additional charms layered upon it, but they were extra.

During the tour, Harry spied a price list for additional charms;

Unbreakable G:750

Unblemish G:45

SharpeningG:200

Recall G:750(Hernan explained that this allowed the owner to summon it without his wand.)

Invisible G:1250(On/Off function)

Magnetism G:3450(This meant to a small extent the sword would aid parrying)

Also, various spells could be imbued into the sword, allowing it to perform those spells built into it. A favourite was reducto, however an occasional smart customer would request accio, allowing a weak opponent to be summoned onto his sword. Gory, but very practical. A useful function, without doubt.

Another department was Modern, which had been divided into Melee, with commando knives and other small practical knives, Projectile, which was a huge section with a great range of assault rifles, pistols and sniper rifles amongst others, and the explosives section. Grenades and mines adorned the walls of this corner of the shop; flashbangs, smokes, and fragmentation all with their own shelf.

All in all, Hernan's weaponry store was an anarchist's wet dream. Enough weapons to declare war on a reasonably sized nation, and still come out on top, with excellent additional charms. For example, although there was no unlimited ammunition charm, there was a charm which allowed a single clip to be linked to your entire supply of ammo, meaning no reload down-time.

When the tour was complete, Harry asked to get a Katana, and a lot of charms imbued, including the entire price list, and the Incendio, Reducto and Accio charms.

He was taken behind the store, where there was a large group of master craftsmen, all building swords, a factory assembly line creating the guns, and a couple of offices for the charmsmen.

"Normally, a customer would take his weapon in there and the charmsman would enchant the sword, while also removing the anti-theft charm." Said Hernan, striding over to a cashdesk, and quickly keyed all the details of Harry's order into a small machine, and tapping his finger on a little button, get an order slip printed. "The anti-theft charm was created by me, and would remove access to the portal. Basically, somebody would try to use it but the portal will refuse to transport them."

"That reminds me; It's obvious we aren't in Siecoe Path any longer, but where are we now? That shop would never hold all this."

"This place is 2 miles under New York. No muggles are gonna accidentally stumble across this place, no way." Harry flicked an eyebrow up at the slightly strange man. "Okaaay..." Harry backed up a little.

"Why the hell two miles underground?"

Hernan shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry entered one of the charmsman offices. It was large, spacey and seemed like an apartment more than a place of work, and while there was a desk straight ahead from the door, and an anvil (which pulsed in sheer power; Harry made a note to ask about that) in the corner, doors led onto different rooms. It appeared the charmsmen lived in these rooms.

Harry rang a bell upon the desk, and immediately a voice sounded from behind him;

"Looking for me, Mr. Potter?" The reaction of shock and surprise the craftsman expected, failed to come to pass. Harry looked up, but little more. '_Excellent' _he thought, Few customers were unfazed by his appearing trick. However, no emotion was shown on his face. The man refused to give away any information, despite it's irrelevance.

Harry turned around slowly. "Yes, actually," he drawled. "By the way, any relation to Ollivander? That was similar to his favourite party trick."

"He is my brother."

Harry looked at the man silently; he was undoubtedly Asian, probably Japanese. He looked ancient. "If that is true, why do you look nothing like him?" Harry asked.

"I look exactly like him, Mr. Potter. He is my twin." Harry raised an eyebrow, before an appreciative smile graced his face. "Glamours." he stated, smirking. The man looked upon him with smiling eyes. "Which of you are wearing a fake face, you, him or... both?"

The man let a faint smile grace his features, the first emotion to be shown yet in the conversation. "My, you are inquisitive. Try and guess, Mr. Potter."

_'Definitely a Slytherin. In that case...'_

"Both." Harry spoke. "I don't think your true age is as it appears. Nor Ollivander, because nobody so 'frail' would be able to sneak up on my so easily. That takes fleet of foot, and agility."

The man still refused to provide confirmation, but Harry knew he was correct. "Try to guess my true age, Mr. Potter."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, realising the man was testing him. "You know as well as me that that is a futile task. You provide neither correction nor answer, so I need not play along with your game. Now, tell me your name."

The man smirked. "You pass. You can call me Li-Fang, or just Fang, and my age is thirty-one."

"But that is not your true name."

"No, it is not." _'Damn, this kids quicker than any adult I've met'_ He thought, impressed. Even he wasn't that fast at that age, and he was a Slytherin.

Harry changed topic, noticing that the battle of wits had taken twenty-five minutes already. "I am here to have a sword charmed," and handed the order slip over to Li-Fang.

"Yes, I guessed that." said Li-Fang with that really annoying Mona-Lisa half smile on his face.

Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens and sighed, as if asking what he did to deserve this.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was starting to like the man. He was a completely closed off git, very secretive, and strange. All that he had gleaned was that the man was a Slytherin in his time. Harry suspected that the _faux-_aged enchanter only let that slip, because he knew Harry had already figured it out. Nobody was that secretive outside of the snakes-house. However, Li-Fang never lied, said it was against his sense of honour. So long as Harry asked a direct question Li-Fang would not lie. However, Harry had to read into the words very carefully, for the older wizard enjoyed misleading Harry. He knew this was a battle of wits, but could not tell if this was for the charmsman's entertainment, practise, or if he was simply being tested. Harry's personal theory was that Fang was doing both.

Harry was surprised by the older man, as he managed to not slip in his battle for words with Harry while still enchanting the blade. Harry was enjoying the game in the same way one appreciates a game of chess against somebody offering a true challenge, attempting to see through all of his opponent's veiled words, and while he did not succeed completely, he thought he was improving all the while. Even if Fang did not realise, he was an excellent teacher.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

After a hour or so (Harry really hoped Hernan was looking after his relatives, otherwise they must be really bored by now), his sword was done. Before it's enchantments, it was a fine specimen of how a sword should look, but now... it was magnificent. Swirling colour, hues of gold, silver and just a hint of green in the blade, with a jet black handle. Li-Fang picked it up, and twirled it round a few times in an elaborate dance, threw it in the air, spinning it before catching it by the blade. He handed it hilt first to Harry. Harry took it, still looking impressed at the display of swordsmanship.

Li-Fang picked up a sheath that came with the sword (A craftsman delivered it, after Li-fang sent the slip through a fax to a different department) and buckled around Harry's torso, shoulder to waist, allowing him to draw it from behind his back.

Harry was about to leave, before a thought came upon him:

"How do I use this thing?"

Li-Fang started to chuckle. Then burst out laughing.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"I can teach you, if you want?" replied Li-Fang, once the laughter had subsided, although a silly grin was still upon his face.

"Thank god for that, for a second there I thought I would have to submit to marauder-style dueling; Act like a complete idiot, have them laugh at you so much that they can't concentrate, and then hit 'em with something hard." This philosophy was taught to Harry by Moony and Padfoot, who over the past year had some quite enlightening tips on dueling.

Fang sniggered, replying "I'll have to remember that one."

"Anyway, I'm moving to Bulgaria but I'm gonna ask for a entrance to this place in Thessaloniki, so once that's done, we can arrange my sword lessons?"

Upon Li-Fang's nod, Harry left the office/apartment with a cheerful farewell.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was feeling quite cheerful he exited Siecoe Path with his relatives; He had a beautiful new sword (Currently invisible), Hernan had agreed to commission a new portal to be installed in Thessaloniki, and he was feeling smug anyway:

_**Flashback**_

**Harry still had a grin on his face when he strode up to Hernan, who looked gobsmacked for some reason. **

"**What's with the fish impression?"**

"**Wha... no... Nobody comes out of Li-Fang's office without feeling at least a bit confused... the man even disorientates me." muttered Hernan.**

"**Guess I'm just special. Anyway, he's just playing word games with you, they aren't that hard. Right, I need a favour. Could you get a door sorted for Thessaloniki?"**

"**Yeah, sure..." Hernan was clearly still dazed.**

_**End flashback**_

Harry really loved shocking people. He had that wicked streak that his father had, and Petunia and Dudley had the same thought going through their head – _'Durmstrang won't know what's hit it.'_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Albus Dumbledore was cursing his complacency. His pawn had been away from privet drive for hours, and he'd made it clear that Harry was to go nowhere. He snarled to himself 'Does that boy have to be so difficult? He has no right to go against me, obstinate brat.'

If Harry had owled him with a message explaining any reasons why he'd leave Privet Drive, he would have been placated, because then he would be proving he was still a nice, _obedient _pawn. But no, he had left, probably to prove he was his own person, to prove he had a life of his own. But dammit, that boy had a duty to him. "He belongs to me!" He yelled, confident in the knowledge there was nobody there to hear.

"If he continues to act like this, I will have to use the collar. He will be obedient, and do whatever I wish, even wishing nothing more than to please my every need. At least I will have the Potter brat, he cannot escape. Damn it all, I've worked so hard to make him my perfect little chess piece, and now he's trying to fight his way out. He has no right." He pulled a thin metal collar out of the desk drawer, from a small stack. It reeked of dark magic, and was his greatest creation. "I never told Nicolas the other use for dragons blood," He mused, smiling to himself.

Albus Dumbledore made a mistake. He thought he was alone.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Dobby was in the kitchens, and he was worried. He had been given the job in the kitchens, and thought that Master Dumbledore sir was a fantastic wizard, the second only to Harry Potter. "But how could mister Dumbly sound so bad, he isn't a nasty man like Voldie-mort." He murmured to himself. Winky had said that she heard him talking to himself, and he sounded so malicious.

At that moment Winky sped into the kitchens, yelling for him.

"Winky? What is it?" he squeaked.

"I heard mister Dumbly talking, and I think he was talking about Harry Potter. He said 'He belongs to me', but very loud. Later on he said 'At least I will have the Potter brat, He cannot escape.' We have to go warn him. He sounded so nasty and vicious." she squealed, sounding terrified that her master Dumbly could say something like that.

"I'll warn him. First, tell me everything you heard." And so Winky said everything, and Dobby sped off to find Harry.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**And thus ends chapter 6**_

_**Erm, do you wanna know something weird? I can't even remember much of this chapter, I feel like I wrote it so long ago, because (as you probably know by now) I write one chapter ahead. Thus, if anything sucks or doesn't match, just mention it.**_

_**Well, obviously you now know the mysterious female from the competitions. However, the other one is still open. **_

_**Who is the narrator, from the prologues?**_

_**I based him upon two characters, and basically he is both, in a sense. There are plenty of hint in his attitude. If you get this correct, you can have a chapter early, or design a character, (ie describe his/her looks, his/her personality etc) to be used as a student at Durmstrang, or possibly a teacher (you decide which).**_

**Sweet-Little-Yugi – **I can (and will) do loads (Grins). Eventually we will get a faintly weird slash pairing, a different country & school (although a couple of recognizable figures, otherwise my plot wouldn't go anywhere), and whatever comes to me at the time. Most of this, I'm guessing my way through, I have no idea what the ending will look like. I'm glad you like this, it's great to have a loyal reviewer. I had a couple who had been reviewing since chapter one, but they didn't this time around. Darn, reviews are always wanted.

**Random reviewer **- Well, I have to keep up the naming tradition! Also, the name suits the street, I find (grins).

**Heather** – Are you the same Heather who reviewed a while back? What with it being anonymous, it's hard to be sure. I plan on continuing writing, and I hopefully will rewrite my other story soon, and get some decent sized chapters. Dudley will be sticking to a school schedule with some extra tutoring (so he can progress quicker. After all, he'd be five years behind, some catching up would be sensible, and being twenty-odd and surrounded by fourteen and fifteen year olds in the future isn't a great position to be in), but Harry will be dropping in on certain classes, ignoring others because they aren't important to him. Nobody will mind too much; he pays the teachers wages. Eventually, Dumbles will face punishment, but he is the master manipulator, the Wizengamot have known him for years, and will refuse to believe he is guilty. Ron and Hermione haven't done much, but things will progress, and then Harry will deal out vengeance. I like vengeful Harrys!

_**Did you enjoy this?**_

**_Give me feedback, because every review is appreciated (except flames, they're just ridiculous), and in fact every positive review I read convinces me to write more and more. So, please, if you like it, review. You'll guilt me into writing quicker _:D**


	7. Chapter 7

_Prologue_

As I follow Harry's adventures (unseen of course, I can become invisible at will), I discover a little bit more. I'm coming to realise that this boy is about a hundred years into the future compared to the wizarding world. I have seen the wizarding world grow and increase in power. However, we have hit a stumbling block, caused by our apparent inability to put down our wand. Arthur Weasley tries so hard, but is unable to understand the technology, or even pronounce it's name. The muggleborns are so proud to be magical, that they forget their roots. Just as people accused Voldemort of being anti-muggle, they accused me. However... I'm all for progress. Use everything you've got, because muggles aren't incapacitated once they lose a wooden stick.

One thing I found about the wizarding world, is that they seem to ignore the lack of casual entertainment. There is chess, gobstones and quidditch. You need fourteen people to play quidditch, and at least two to play chess and gobstones. What can someone on their own do?

FrednGeorge's latest assignment could be the future of wizardry. Muggle entertainment usable by wizards? Unheard of. But if anyone can do it, it's those boys. Being children of Arthur Weasley, they heard a great deal about machinery. However, they, unlike anyone else in the family, understood every word. Not even Arthur had the foggiest what he was talking about, but the Terror Twins of Hogwarts were like sponges, desperate for useful information. They got but a handful of owls, failing muggle studies in spite of understanding more of Muggle technology than the teacher himself. I have seen the difference between the original exam papers on muggle studies, and the modern. Or moreover, the lack of difference. Even now, they still have questions based upon knights of the kingdom. Students of a thousand years ago might have appreciated knowledge about how to care for your war stallion, but today's students do not discover physics, or computing, and while mathematics is the basis of an elective course known as Arithmancy, this is usually ignored by students of most houses, because it sounds difficult. After all, these students are but thirteen years old when they make choices that affect their lives.

All in all, what i suppose I'm trying to say is that the Wizarding world is in a sorry state, and is seriously overdue for a reform. Will it be the three co-owners of a joke shop in Diagon alley that begin the process? My money's on it. I just hope I'm right...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my weekends finding practical joke fake bombs in football stadiums. Ah well...**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Malfoy Manor_

Draco Malfoy was in his bedroom, no doubt cooking up nefarious plans of doom and destruction for his nemesis Potter. The stereotypical evil bastard, obviously no deeper in character and personality than he was portrayed.

Except, he wasn't. Harry Potter was somebody who he deeply respected, and he never wanted to hurt him. After, he sent the warning to Potter through the elf, years ago. While Lucius and he knew the dangers possibly presented by the diary, they only went through with the plan because they needed their leader, only he had the power or the knowledge to defeat Dumbledore. They were shocked at the diary's solution as to how to live again, but they later realised that the memory of Riddle would have become tainted and insane after being trapped inside a book for half a century. Looking back, they realised that they never should have tried as they nearly cost the life of Ginevra Weasley, and it would have been for naught. Tom Riddle was different at sixteen, having little Dark Arts experience.

Looking back, Draco reflected, there was plenty of proof that nobody was perfect. The diary mistake was a disaster averted by Harry Potter, upon which they were greatly relieved. They did not want the blood of a innocent girl upon their hands, and Potter saved them from such a happening. For this alone, they were in his debt.

'I wonder if he knows how many life-debts are owed to him? Father and I owe him one for the life of another, a valuable power to have even despite it's weakness in comparison to a true life-debt. Ginevra Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Peter Pettigrew all owe him real life debts.' This, Draco knew, could be an important factor in the war. Draco resolved to tell him of them, if Harry ever jumped ships, and joined Voldemort.

Draco sighed. He wanted plenty of things, he wanted Harry on his side, he wanted the world to know what Dumbledore was, but mostly, he wanted his Dad back.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Secret location of pure and incomparable evil..._

The aforementioned 'Dark Lord' was feeling a little bored. He'd been feeling this way for a while, since all in all wizards really had very little to do in spare time. After all, what cunning and powerful general plays Gobstones? A shame that this image was needed really, he had quite a penchant for it in his youth. He was rather excellent at the game, if he said so himself.

However, there is always chess. But this was part of the reason he was bored. He loved the head to head battle of wits and tactics involved in chess, the setting of traps, and the satisfaction of taking a piece. However, the whole fun of this was stolen by that bloody pawn of Dumbledore's, that kid Potter. While he had little personal grudge against the boy, he was making things rather difficult. He also, more importantly, put his best opponent for chess in jail!

Nott knocked over his black king, in submission to Voldemort. They looked at the pieces taken: all black pieces except three pawns, while Voldemort had lost one pawn and a knight.

"Well done my lord, you are truly an unbeatable opponent..." said Nott, ingratiatingly.

Voldemort groaned in boredom and sent a wandless Reducto at the board.

The death eaters, while the smoke was clearing, heard the slam of a door and Voldemort stomping up the stairs.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Another secret location, not quite as evil or even incomparable_

"Damn it Bella, why don't you just fuck off! I can't stand this anymore..." The Lestranges were having a family argument. "It's ridiculous and over the top. We are fighting for **_good_**, not for the psychotic satisfaction of seeing them in pain."

"They deserve it!" She crowed, in her demented sing-song voice. "The Longbottoms fought against us, and what we gave them, they des-"

"No, Bella, no they didn't. You made us into criminals in an attempt to hurt the people who are fighting for what they think is good. We do the same as they did. Also, have you not thought of the ramifications of what you have done? Their son will never forgive us, and will be another pawn for Dumbledore. This is but one stupid example, and I can't help but wonder who you are fighting for."

Bellatrix slapped her husband, leaving a bright red mark on his face.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Same place as before, still not quite as evil as the 'Secret location of pure and incomparable evil...'_

A man with dyed silver dreadlocks, and a pale aristocratic face was walking past a door in the same house as the Lestranges, when he heard a slap from inside the bedroom of his hosts.

He opened the door, to the sight of both Lestranges pulling their wands on each other.

"Whoa, whoa, easy" he shouted, running between them and pushing down on their wands, stopping them aiming. "Jesus, you two still arguing?"

Both Rodolphus and Bellatrix glared at him. He rolled his eyes, and said "Why the hell don't you two get divorced? I just can't understand this, this is an arranged marriage, the people who made it died years ago, and the people who care probably won't even find out."

Bellatrix scowled, and pointed out "It's still a magical contract, and dad made it unbreakable, like he did with all contracts."

"You don't honestly think Dementius didn't leave a get out clause?" He chuckled. "He always got on alright with me, he told me how to break them."

Both Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked hopeful. "Really?"

Mentally rolling his eyes, he said "No, I'm a lying scum who led you on this far just for fun," with a slight smirk on his face.

"Wouldn't put it past you, git." Grumbled Rodolphus.

"Be nice, only I can break this." pointed out the houseguest. He then began the ritual to break a contract.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Small but fairly clean hotel, not even remotely evil, west London_

The receptionist at a small hotel known as The Hampstead, didn't even look up from her book when three figures approached. "Any rooms?"

"Yeah, loads. Tenner per night."

"Three of them then, next to each other if possible." Harry certainly wasn't sharing, he _was _paying after all.

It turned out that it was, and Harry handed over enough for a week, £210. "What's your names? I need them for the records."

"Just put us down as Evans."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry put up a few wards he had seen in some books he read during his spare time, then collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from the day's events. His visit to Hernan's had taken several hours, as a tour round the shop consists of walking several miles. In short, he was knackered.

He hadn't planned to take up swordfighting, but it was an extra line of defence. He dreaded to think what would happen if he were to take on Mad-eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt or Dumbledore himself with his magic. He may have a great deal of power, but his experience was nothing compared to Dumbledore. He hoped to get some good tutoring, and with the swordfighting skills he planned to gain, could hopefully have an aspect to fighting that another wizard may not expect. He also planned to pick up a few guns on his next visit, but he was carrying too much already, with his Katana.

He ideally had wanted to be able to visit the Daily Prophet, and make some staff changes (Rita Skeeter sprang to mind), but Hernan's was a great deal bigger and more interesting than he expected. He simply didn't have the time to carry out any other plans, such as visit Daily Prophet and WWN to lay down some rules. He had several things to do before leaving for Bulgaria, but certainly needed to get to Bulgaria well before September 1st. After all, they needed to enrol, even if Harry was the owner.

The week would be a busy one.

Harry Potter lay back on his covers, without changing his clothing, and fell asleep.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Once again, Harry was planning on going shopping with his relatives in tow. This time however, they were heading into muggle London instead. He needed some good clothes, and frankly couldn't stand wearing robes. Although warm, they were uncomfortable, itchy and frankly pointless. 'Fact : Nobody can really do anything in robes.' Thought Harry. After all, some students from the muggle world kept tripping in the hallway, and was considered nothing peculiar. Obviously purebloods wore robes before and thus didn't mind. However, robes were muggle medieval clothing. Why did the wizards insist on being behind in everything? Muggles stopped wearing them for a reason, and by wearing them, the more idiotic wizards got noticed by muggles, that was proven at the Quidditch cup, where the muggles were repeatedly obliviated.

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Wizards, frankly, got on his nerves. Big time.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"How about this one?" asked Petunia, holding up a pair of blue tracksuit trousers, with two stripes down the sides. Harry scowled and put them back on the rack. "Look, how about you and Dudley go to McDonalds or buy yourself some new clothes or something like that, and I'll wander round," he said, offering her a few fifty pound notes **(Aunt Petunia has no job, therefore currently no money), **but she refused the cash and said they would go for a walk. Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, instead handed the money to Dudley and walked away with a cheerful wave.

This was how he found himself in a much better shop than the last – Spaz's House, a clothes shop for alternative and gothic people. Harry smirked, spotting a bondage/sex slave section in the corner.

'I wonder how much Ron and Hermione would freak to see me in here' he thought, laughing at the idea of his normal, ordinary (as ordinary as wizards get, anyway) - and when he looked back on things - fairly dull ex-friends. He'd never really given it much thought before, but in truth, ordinary life with the Dursleys before this summer, was not much different than his life at Hogwarts or even the Burrow. All places and their residents strived to not stick out from the crowd, nobody was really extravagant or flamboyant (except FrednGeorge).

He needed people like that however, because otherwise his life was strangely dull, even with his annual adventures. He suspected that was why he always encouraged Fred and George, and funded their pranking efforts. Pranking was in his blood, and when Harry thought about the fact - despite how disappointed he had been by the Marauders' treatment of Snape in the pensieve – he wouldn't have it any other way.

This was why he knew he needed some better friends. The ones, while not trying to sound heartless, were, well, boring. Hermione constantly wore turtlenecks, despite an impressive figure, and Ron always wore scruffy dull clothes even though he knew FrednGeorge had offered him money for new ones, so long as he din't buy the same dull clothing style that he had worn for the past three years or so. He refused and threw a temper tantrum about the fact that his brothers were 'teasing' him about his clothing.

Simply put, Ron and Hermione were dull and strived for normality – Harry was better off without.

Especially considering he himself was unsure about his preferences, but had a sinking feeling that within a few months he would be playing for the home team, for want of a better figure of speech. He certainly appreciated the male figure more than the more feminine features of the more obvious possible girlfriends in his friends eyes – Ginny Weasley for example. With her and any other females, he could only give that opinion as platonic and critical; while he certainly knew she was beautiful, it conjured no fantasies – he didn't particularly want to see her in a stronger state of undress than when he has accidentally caught her with half her shirt off in the boys dorm one lunchtime with Dean, towards the end of last year. When she announced her relationship with Harry's dorm-mate, he was obviously unsurprised. However, he feigned a reaction, to avoid awkward questions from the other members of the 'Golden trio'.

Harry was woken from his musings with a light tap on his shoulder.

"Need a hand choosing? You've been looking at that rack for the past twenty minutes." an assistant with a pierced lip and pitch-black hair – dyed – asked. He turned to look at her, and she gasped. "Oh wow, you'll look so cool when I'm done with you, green eyes, pitch black hair – is that natural?" seeing his slightly bewildered nod, she continued "Pale, I really don't think anything bright would suit you..." she muttered to herself, getting a glassy eyed look as she browsed the shelves looking for something to suit the teen.

Eventually she ended up with a armful of shirts, a few in a shiny emerald green/black with wide long sleeves, but mostly black with red tribal symbols on the chest. Well, actually he ended up with armful, she dumped all suitable clothes on him. He also ended up with some leather trousers, and a few pairs of jeans.

"Right, try all those on." She ordered, and the bewildered Harry did so, stumbling to the changing rooms trying to balance all the clothes in fairly tall piles.

"Strange girl" he murmured.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry, an hour later, had made his way through all the clothes, and most fit. He bought them, and decided he wanted something else, it felt like something was missing. He'd already got changed into his new clothes, and the crazy-shopper-girl (whose name, it turned out was Erin) agreed he needed something else. After a moment of pondering, realisation dawned in her eyes. "I know!" she declared. She grabbed his hand, and shouted to someone else working in the shop that she was going on her lunch break.

"You're gonna drag me around, and not tell me what you're doing again, aren't you?" Harry sighed, resigned to his fate.

"Yep!" she said, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Christ girl, you're supposed to be goth! I thought you are all depressed and antisocial."

Erin laughed. "Evidently you don't know many of us. Anyway, you've gone goth now, so there!" she replied, sticking her tongue out at him, still – in Harry's opinion - irritatingly cheerful.

Her statement was true actually, Harry's clothes were now mostly black or at least dark. 'I am so gonna be thought of as a vamp now,' thought Harry. She'd even added in some eye-liner with all the buys as a freebie, because he bought so much. It took a lot of persuasion for him to wear it, but he grudgingly admitted it was pretty cool.

"What's your point? You're the one that's bouncing..." Harry retorted.

Her only response was to bounce faster, and laugh herself silly. 'Insane' thought Harry. They were starting to get funny looks by now, but that Harry didn't mind. He never was particularly self conscious, and he'd been getting admiring and obsessed looks all through Hogwarts. People looking at him askance was a preferable alternative.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Eventually, Erin calmed down enough to drag him by the hand round London for ten minutes, completely refusing to inform his where they were going. When they finally arrived at their destination, Harry looked at the sign and gasped.

Erin started to worry that he was a bit worried about the whole process, and began to babble "Now, it doesn't hurt much, and it'll look so cool. It'll look fabulous, and this is the best and safest of it's kind that I know of..." she cut off at the sight of his steadily growing grin.

"Perfect." he breathed, and walked into the body-art shop.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

When he came out, a few hours later (on his own, Erin had to leave to go back to work), he was sporting a lip ring, one earring (a silver skull), and a tongue ring. He also had a tattoo of a hoof print on his left arm and a lily on the other. The tattooist thought this a peculiar request, but Harry's simple explanation of "It's in memory of my parents," was enough to waylay any questions. The body-artist was sensible enough to not discuss sensitive topics, and the rest of the tattooing was spent in silence, or making light conversation.

It was getting late, and Harry decided to go back to the hotel, in case his relatives were worrying. As it were, they knew he could take care of himself.

However, that wasn't much comfort to Harry. It was ten o'clock, and Harry was panicking. He was being followed through London. He'd taken some strange detours to try to shake off his stalker, but nothing gave. Eventually, he broke into a run, sprinting from his pursuer. He didn't plan on using magic, as his pursuer was either muggle, meaning the law was broken, or wizard, meaning that at least one wizard would know of his emancipation. He expected it to be someone from either Voldemort or Dumbledore.

As his pursuer broke into a sprint, a hood which previously veiled his features, fell back. Revealing one; Severus Snape.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was losing his breath, but was smaller and pacier than Snape, he was gaining a lead in his pursuit around some of the shadier streets of London, and occasionally slowed the man down by throwing dustbins in his path. His escape, after about five minutes of flat out sprinting, came when a group of drunks coming from a pub a few houses down stumbled into Snape.

"Damn it, you inebriated filth, get out of my way," he snarled throwing one of them out of his way. One drunk wasn't backing down, and punched Snape in the gut.

Thirty seconds later, every drunk was on the floor clutching their heads in pain. Snape's wand never left his pocket during this exchange, and he spat on them. "Pathetic. I need a real challenge," sneered Snape. However, caught up in the fight, he had forgotten about his quarry, and when he span round, scanning the long street for the diminutive figure, he was nowhere to be seen.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Unknown to him, Harry Potter had not fled. Instead, too tired to make a true escape, he quickly applied a glamour to very subtly change his features and hide the scar, ran into the pub, and asked for the police to be contacted, citing an a man pursuing him and then assaulting a group of men as the reason. He was astonished by Snape's streetfighting skills; he had expected the man to be reliant on his wand, like most wizards. However, he came to realise Snape was a potions master, and thus saw little use for his wand. Most likely, being a Slytherin, he believed that muggle fighting skills were a wise choice. At that moment, Harry decided to find a highly recommended sensei, and learn martial arts. As it were, wand or no, he knew Snape would have beaten him even if he drew his wand on his ex-professor.

When the police came to apprehend Snape, he was nowhere to be found. Harry said he'd be in the Hampstead, left his name (fake: Gareth Evans), his mobile phone number (His aunt bought it for him while he was in hospital as a get well gift), and said he was staying with his brother Rob (Dudley's middle name) and mother Holly. He said he would provide a description for the police artist, but offered to draw a picture overnight from memory.

Harry had discovered quite a talent with art when, bored out of his skull in a hospital ward, he tried to draw. His first few attempts were a bit scratchy, but got into the swing of things before long. He did art at primary school, and won a prize for it at one point. It was only a Mars Bar, but it was far more to him. It was the first sweet he could remember eating, and the first victory he had made. It was a minor milestone, and one of Harry's few good memories from muggle education. Dudley was ill that day, and thus the Dursleys never found out.

The police, once all business was dealt with for the day, offered him a lift home. Exhausted physically and emotionally, he accepted. Nobody but Severus Snape himself knew that the spy/teacher was still hiding underneath an invisibility cloak. He wanted to sneak in, but knew that was impossible, as the door was locked for privacy. He couldn't alohomora it, because then the police would arrest him.

However, when Harry left the pub, he planned to wait until the police left him and then grab the boy. If he was not a wizard, perhaps he would have realised that the police would never leave a teen alone at quarter to eleven to walk back to the hotel. However, he did not. When the police car with Harry in sped off, Snape cursed his own foolishness, and considered chasing the machine. But it was already gone.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**Thank ye, thank ye. (Bows)**

**By the way, Spaz's house is named after a punk song that I love. Anyway, I had no better ideas.**

**Anyhoo, did you people enjoy? Give me feedback, because every review is appreciated (except flames, they're just ridiculous), and in fact every positive review I read convinces me to write more and more.**

**By the way people, sorry for the slightly sucky intro for the chapter, it really was a bit of a struggle to write.**

_**Competiton. This has been onrunnning for a while. Suggestion have been given, such as Filch, Snape, Mafoy, even Voldemort. These are wrong, and people aren't realy very close. So I decided to give you a little help. **_

_**Who is the Narrator at the start of chapter prologues?**_

_**It's not an elf, it's not a teacher, it's not Filch. Neither character that the narrator is based upon has ANY dialogue in the stories. One just doesn't speak to anyone, and the other has never even been seen in canon, barely mentioned as a person, but his name is spoken regularly. C'mon, you can get it from this, surely. Maybe it's me, but I feel I'm giving it away. Just know, there are two answers which will be accepted, and there are really thousands of hints. Look at who the Narrator seems to like, what he appreciates, and then it will fall straight into your hands.**_

_**The competition closes after this.**_

_**Reviews:**_

**Sweet-Little-Yugi – **I really don't have the foggiest what I'm gonna do with the elves, whether Harry will own them or not. Sorry (Sweatdrops), Durmstrang will be a few chapters yet, there's another month of summer left. It's his birthday next chappie, but I might skim over much of August, if you're lucky :)

**DebsTheSnapeFanNow – **You know, that chapter's edited slightly. The original was "If he continues to act like this, I will have to use the collar **_like with Severus... _**but I changed it, because I don't think Harry should know why Snape works for Dumbles, it'll make for some interesting writing. Also, you got some glance of Kickass!Snape in this chapter, because he never used magic in that confrontation, just beat the hell out of a gang of blokes on his own. The problem with the arrest idea is that, well, he **_can't. _**Dumbles is way too powerful. No prison would hold him and no jury would convict him. Dealing with Dumbie will be very difficult. Also, potions job in Durmstrang... Probably not actually. I see Snape as a Potion genius who doesn't have the slightest clue how to teach the subject. (This actually happens in reality, because the teacher who is too good at his craft has the skills come naturally, and thus cannot explain them). I'll probably have him working on research, because I think that would suit Snape perfectly. A chance to sit all day and experiment at his favourite subject... that would be heaven to him. Anyway, I already have a teacher for Potions. I've set up a list describing each teacher there.

**Saffron Cyanide** – Well, if you were to create a character, it would get more than one line. I was thinking along the lines of teacher of a core subject, or one of Harry or Dudley's new friends at Durmstrang. By the way, the polls are in, he's going with Rodolphus. Woohoo! That's my fave!

**(Note – this reply was written before the e-mails between you and I)**

**Heather** – Well... the easiest question first, although they are all quite tricky topics, that I've had to put a lot of thought into. How bad is Riddle... Not very. He's a bit overzealous, and VERY ruthless. He also has a temper to reckon with. But his actual intentions are light, and the acts committed really by him are eventually for magical good. The evil character of Voldemort was a story created by Dumbledore, another great foe to lead the public to turn to him in desperation. The ministry would not have tried Riddle, but immediately sentenced him to the kiss so he could not go for Veritaserum testing.

Next question, will Dudley have special tutoring. I gave this a lot of thought, and came to realise that asking a student to actually advance five years in a short amount of time was a bit... hopeful.

So,the simple answer is no. What I did instead was create a special education system. Basically, each subject has several grade bands, each of which can be advanced from by an exam(which can be taken whenever the student wants). Once the highest band has been passed, the student has qualified the subject. A very competent student will immediately progress to a high grade band, and qualify.

I also have a list of teachers arranged for most subjects. By the new system, Dudley will be paired with people possibly older than himself, his aunt for example. She will finish her education, and obviously get a new wand. Even Harry will have to start from the beginning, as Hogwarts exams count for very little to Durmstrang. He will however, qualify very quickly through most bands, possibly taking many of the exams upon entry to Durmstrang.

Right, the trickiest of the lot; how to bring Dumbie down... I haven't the foggiest. I'll probably make it up as I go along :) All I can say is that prison wouldn't hold him.

**HecateDeMort – **Very groovy name, Dark Moon of Death. I like! Thank ye for the compliment. Now, to the competition. Definitely not Snape as the narrator, it's a much more minor character. Filch is a good guess, but not right I'm afraid. However, it is someone who seemingly never leaves the castle (according to canon), and considering what I said in a previous chapter, it cannot be staff. If you want more hints, look to the competition's part.

**Biblios – **Dudley and the twins probably would get on well together, I agree there. Once Dudley knows a few prank worthy spells, he would be real trouble around Durmstrang. Petunia **will **finish her education at Durmstrang, I've actually created my own system of education to fit in Dudley and Petunia, based on a combination between university and my sixth form college. Durmstrang is most certainly on the Bulgaria-Greece border, and will be in the mountains. Note how I am using thessaloniki for my wizarding centre? It's a lot nearer to Bulgaria, and seemed right. For all I know, Thessaloniki is totally implausible for some reason. The name stuck out, however, and it seems to be large from what photos on the internet have shown. I would have used Athens, but that's very far from Bulgaria, much too far in fact.

The poll 'Who is the mysterious female?' has closed, the answer was Winky. Do you mean the other poll, 'Who is the Narrator?'. If so, good guess, but still incorrect. That is the closest so far.

I think in my story, Hagrid is gonna be a bit clueless, and probably won't feature in the plot much. Maybe he'll get drunk once in a while, but that'll be about it.. Also, I really haven't considered the Chamber incident. There are so many issues that make it more difficult to create the Dumbles-is-bad-and-Voldie-is-good plot, that I really can't put much thought into all of them.

**Kym** – Thanks for the compliments, and I can't stand Ron and Hermione either in most stories, although a couple are good, depends on the author really. Remus, well he has a bit of the plot, yes, and he is certainly on Harry's side.

**Since I gave you such a big chapter, can you give me lots of reviews? I'm a review junkie by now!**


	8. Chapter 8

_Prologue_

Hogwarts. A school with heritage and prestige, which children cheer about going to. Every year, take a look at the attendees, and the list is incredible:

The early Potter line, who were known as a line of free-spirits, adventurers and heroes.

The Ambrosius line – halting in recent centuries, of course, with the families departure from England and eventual formation of Thessaloniki wizarding centre.

Thomas Riddle, the only of my Snakes to come speak with me.

Albus Dumbledore – despite my hate for the man, he _was_ exceptionally powerful.

More recently, the resumption of the traditional freespirited Potters. James could have amounted to much but for a few mistakes, mostly trusting Albus Dumbledore.

Finally, the latest Potter. Harry, the one with as much potential as any on this list, the one with the understanding to know the enemy, and finally, his truly light personality.

And he is leaving. These are dark days for my school.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my weekends finding practical joke fake bombs in football stadiums (really did happen). Ah well... I also don't own Lullaby by The Cure, despite my ardent wish to do so.**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry woke with a weight upon his stomach.

"Urggh... Dobby? What're you doing here?" he mumbled, without opening his eyes.

His first answer was a lick in the face. The second was Dudley saying "Who's Dobby?"

Once Harry was fully conscious, he realised two things. One, it was his birthday. Two, he now had a very small but cute puppy spaniel called Alexander. However, neither of these was going to stop Harry from going back to sleep. He had a late night, for gods sake.

"Whoa, no. You, young man, are going to explain why on earth you arrived back here in a police car, completely unconscious. And then, you are going to show us everything you got from downtown."

"Why did I arrive unconscious in a police car? I fell asleep on the ride home. As to your other request, bugger off, I'm tired." he replied, and fell back to sleep. He was successful in a sense, as he managed to sleep for another sixteen minutes and forty-two seconds, in which time Dudley managed to find a small bucket, fill it with ice cold water and upend it on him.

Petunia burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, joined quickly by Dudley. She managed to gasp out "Revenge! Remember in the bank when you woke me up by spelling a load of ice water on me? Well, now you know what it's like."

Just to add another grievance to Harry's already rather long list, A small green something suddenly appeared on Harry's stomach.. Just heavy enough to knock the wind out of his lungs.

'Bloody hell,' thought Harry. "Some sodding birthday this is," he grumbled, smiling to himself.

"Harry Potter sir! Dobby needs to tell... Mr Harry Potter sir?"

"Yes Dobby?"

"Why are you all wet?"

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

As it turned out, Dobby was delivering information of Dumbledore, which truly didn't surprise Harry. However, there were various little nuggets of info, that surprised Harry. For example, he definitely wanted to get more information on this 'Collar'. It sounded like a cursed item that probably created an Imperius curse or some other similar suggestion curse. One thing which seemed certain, was that it certainly wasn't legal. Yet another crime to add to the sheet.

He wrote down all the information in a small notebook that he was using as a convenient way to keep things in perspective. Using a little charm, he copied the information and sent it to Grillkrup, who after all was his legal advisor.

Then he picked up his sketchbook. He had done a couple of pictures of Snape a while ago, and digging out the best, got dressed. The police arrived shortly afterwards, and he gave them the picture.

"Not bad, not bad at all... Well, if you're sure that this is a good likeness of him, then we can try to apprehend the man."

Harry made eye contact with his aunt and nodded very slightly.

"Wait a second... that looks like Severus Snape," Cut in Petunia. "I knew him a few years ago."

"Are you totally sure?" asked the officer. "Yes, he's definitely a recognizable face." she replied. Harry smirked inwardly. Perfect.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"So," Declared Harry's aunt, as soon as the police officer had left. "Now you are going to tell us what that was all about, and show us what you bought."

Harry sighed in resignment, and proceeded to explain the developments. It took a quarter of an hour, and throughout the monologue, his relatives grew paler and paler.

"They know we are in London now?" Asked Dudley.

"Not quite. The story I gave to the police was slightly different to what the Headmaster will be expecting. Firstly, we are Welsh – Don't worry, anybody who begins to wonder suddenly 'realises' that our accent is Welsh, it's a very useful spell – your name is Rob, mine is Gareth, we are brothers, and your name" he said, now indicating petunia, "is Holly. According to the story, you are also my mother. I thought by using your middle name, Dudley, a name similar to mine and your real name, Aunt Petunia, we could keep up the façade easier. In public, it's important to refer to ourselves as our fake names. Also, whenever we leave I will apply the glamour charms to make us look only slightly different. After all, if my hair changed to blonde, they'd know something was up. Snape was certainly chasing a boy with dark hair."

Holly smiled, and drew the teens into a hug. "Even if it's not real, it'll be nice to hear you call me mum, Harry," she offered with a slightly shaky smile.

"It'll be nice to use the word, Lord knows it's something I've always wanted to have the chance to call someone."

Holly wiped a small amount of water from her eyes, and changed the topic. "Right, well you've got some shopping to show us, don't you." Harry groaned. "Tell me about it, I got cornered by a rabid shop assistant in a shop called Spaz's House. Sells alternative clothing-"

"Explains why you came in with eye-liner on last night, if you've been visiting goth and punk shops, Ha- Gary," sniggered Dudley. Harry blushed a bit, and mock-glared. "Not my choice, that was Erin's." Holly arched an eyebrow. "Erin? Is she your girlfriend?" she teased. He held his head in his hands. "NO! She is the rabid shop assistant that I spoke of a second ago."

"First name terms already Mr. Potter? You're quick off the mark..." smirked Dudley.

"Gods almighty. What did I do to deserve this?" he asked, raising his eyes to the heavens.

"You went shopping and got cornered by your new girlfriend, etc etc." snickered Dudley, he loved teasing Harry.

"Gah! It's was rhetorical." he replied, scowling. Holly and her son exchanged a victorious grin, while Harry's glare intensified as he caught on. "HEY! She is not my girlfriend," he grumbled.

"Not the sharpest tool in the drawer, are you Harold?" sympathised Holly in a sickly sweet tone, patting Harry's shoulder and grinning.

Harry's glare faded into a pout. "Stop bullying me," he sulked, and stuck out his bottom lip as far as it could go. "It's supposed to be my birthday, my sixteenth. No fair bullying me on my birthday." Harry's pout turned into a feral grin, making his relatives pale slightly. "After all, my revenge is much more impressive." He got up, picking up his dog and scratching his ears. The dog licked at his fingers and wagged it's tiny little string of a tail, making Harry smile softly. He'd never really experienced the simpler delights in life, like having a pet or a mother's hug. Petunia saw this and smiled. Even if it was all they could get him, both she and Dudley knew this was the greatest gift they could possibly give.

"GIT!" yelled Dudley suddenly, glaring. He'd caught sight of himself in a window's reflection, which showed his face, but with blue hair. "But Duddikins dearest, it looks so nice," said Harry. "Although you should calm down. Red doesn't go well with you new hair style for the week."

If possible, Dudley's glare intensified, and his face turned an even darker shade of crimson, before losing all colour. "The whole week?" he stuttered. "Yep!" declared Harry. "Except when you are outside of course, but every time when we get back here, I'll return it to blue."

Petunia laughed at the look on her son's face, or at least tried to. No sound came out, however.

"And now, Auntie dearest, you find my punishment for you. You won't be able to talk for the next hour or so." Harry grinned once more, and turned to leave the room with complete silence. Dudley was dumbstruck, and Petunia's yells were in vain.

In the doorway, he turned around with his puppy in his arms, and gave an evil laugh.

Dudley regained his bearings. "You aren't Blofeld yet, Harry." he grinned, shaking his head.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

They stayed in the hotel that day, Harry showing Dudley a few useful beginner charms, allowing him to use his wand. The reaction to Dudley was better than he expected, and Dudley was nearly at the level he would reach with his own wand. It certainly appeared that Dudley's wand would be similar to his own. He wondered if this would happen to all relatives. After all, Ron's always functioned passably during first year, despite being Charlie's old wand.

A few days passed, without incident. Harry enjoyed life as an ordinary boy for once, although was occasionally spotted by an avid newspaper reader, who recognized him as the boy involved in the Snape case of assault;

The Times had a rather excellent article on it, page four;

_**Mass assault committed in London**_

_**A man is wanted for questioning in connection with an assault that happened on the thirtieth of July. A sixteen year old welsh boy known as Gareth Evans gave this story to the police:**_

"_I'd just been shopping around the city, finding some new clothes. I'd just finished and was heading back to the hotel where me and my family are staying, when I saw someone in very dark clothing following me. I shrugged it off, presuming it as coincidence, perhaps he was heading to the same area as me. However, just in case, I decided to circle round the block a couple of times hoping to shake him off. To my dismay, I found the man still following me, so I started to run. He began to run as well, and it broke into a full blown chase around London. I've long considered myself a fit person, and do some long distance running for fun. However, the man still managed to gain on me. That's when I, in truth, got lucky. When a group of... slightly merry locals came out of a pub, they stumbled straight into the man. He seemed furious, certainly quick tempered. He proceeded to, for want of a better term, beat the brains out of the lot of them bare handed. I ran into the bar they had just vacated, and yelled for somebody. In the end, you" **- the police -** "were called."_

_**The man is described as about six foot tall, and was wearing peculiar black clothes, resembling a robe of some sort. The picture below is drawn by the boy himself from memory, to save police time in drawing a portrait of the man. He has been identified as Severus Snape.**_

_**Anyone with information on the incident, please contact Crimestoppers.**_

Harry was proud of getting the newspapers involved. At very least, Dumbledore was going to give Snape a hard time, for becoming a muggle fugitive. Harry wished he could rub it in that Snape was now in exactly the same position that Sirius was, except that he committed his crime, instead of being framed.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry lay back on his bed at the hotel, on the third of August, feeling content with the world. It was the first time he had truly been content in his life, because before Hogwarts he was never allowed creature comforts, and during it, life was stressful, with quidditch, homework, deranged Dark Lords, politics, to name but a few of the tasks and obstructions between him and happiness.

Finally he could feel normal. He'd addressed Aunt Petunia as mum during the trips, as they'd agreed. He forced all thoughts of the truth out of his head for a moment, and it felt wonderful. For those split seconds, he convinced himself he had a mother. He'd never realised that it was such a wonderful feeling.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**On candystripe legs, the spiderman comes**_

A man, clad all in black strode silently past the hotel doors of the boy's relatives. His steps were long and precise, the footsteps of a man who knew _exactly _what he was doing.

_**softly through the shadow of the evening sun. **_

He occasionally looked outside, seeing nobody, but checking all the time. This was mostly procedure; he was a talented spy.

_**stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead**_

Every time he stepped past a window, his face was illuminated in the moonlight, revealing him as Severus Snape.

_**looking for the victim, shivering in bed**_

Nothing was in his way, between him and his target. He had been ordered to collect the boy, by any means necessary.

Severus Snape grinned as he inched closer to the boy he knew was Potter, despite the Welsh alias he used. The boy slept quietly, seemingly happy enough in his dreams. Severus fingered a portkey in his pocket and reached out for the boys wrist. All he had to do was grab the boy and port him back to Grimmauld Place.

His arm inched towards Harry, and grasped his wrist. Speaking the activation word, he smirked in triumph, as the portkey sent them to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry blinked awake.

_'What the fuck? Where... Oh hell no!'_

And thus, Harry realised _exactly_ where he was. And, more importantly, who wanted him here.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was thinking fast, about how to get out of there before the shit hit the fan, so to speak. However, just like this morning, he was caught unawares. He hadn't even managed to get any shred of reasonable plan off the ground before Dumbledore, with Snape, McGonagall, Ron and Hermione entered the room.

"Harry..." He started, in a petulant voice. "I've told you many times, you cannot leave you relative's house. You will be endangered."

Harry stood up, brushed himself off, and, strode up to the man. "By who?" he whispered in Dumbledore's ear. Raising his voice, he spoke clearly; "The gig's up Dumbledore. You and I both know that Voldemort is not the real enemy, is he?"

"I, I don't understand what you are talking of, dear boy," replied the headmaster of Hogwarts, stuttering only slightly, as if truly shocked. Harry had to hand it to him, he was a fine actor. He even complimented the bearded old man on the skill.

A flash of anger crossed his brow, before settling into his normal highly occluded state. Hermione was not so calm, however. She strode straight up to him, and slapped him hard in the face. "What right do you have to treat Headmaster Dumbledore with such disrespect?" she sneered.

Harry reeled back a little, but recovered quickly. "I think... I have as much right as I want. And before I forget, I let you off with that one. You try it again, well, lord knows, I do things a little, rash, shall we say, in the heat of the moment. We wouldn't want something painful to happen to you, now would we?" he answered, whispering the two words. Hermione, already walking back to where she stood next to Ron, who glared at Harry, looking down his nose at him, visibly shivered. Dumbledore's face showed his anger, and he whispered something into Snape's ear, whose face was unreadable.

Snape was beginning to step forward when Ron charged at Harry, swinging a fist. Luckily, the Claro Calx was still on his person, and thus he was able to see the punch coming, and, bending backwards to avoid it, reach up and grab Ron's arm. He then twisted it, and kicked Ron in the space where all dirty fighters aim for. All males in the room cringed, except Harry who let loose a feral grin.

All in all, Harry had incapacitated Ron with one hand and one foot, and dodged a punch with ease. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hermione looked furious, while Snape looked mildly impressed judging by his facial expressions. However, something else burned within those eyes of his.

"Lets not forget, Mr. Potter, Ronald is hardly an able opponent. His height makes him unbalanced, and he is also, frankly, a moron." Harry nodded; he agreed with the man for once.

"Severus," Snapped Dumbledore. "Just get on with it, and stop insulting Mr. Weasley."

"No, no," interrupted Harry. "How could you try to stop this when we have finally found some common ground?" Snape's lips twitched, but he stepped forwards at the headmaster's reiteration of the command.

"So, Mr. Potter. Up for a fight?" smirked Snape. "I don't go easy on my opponents, though."

"I wouldn't expect any different," remarked Harry, looking surprisingly collected and calm. Inside, however, he was shaking like a leaf. _'He's gonna maul me!'_

Harry tried to concentrate, to focus and hopefully predict Snape's attacks. Seeing no immediate movement, he took a swing. Which was one of the most painful mistakes he ever made. He didn't have a clue how it happened, but he found himself on the floor with a very painful ache in his ribs, and a foot on his back.

Snape had however underestimated Harry. Harry had an ace up his sleeve, and called out mentally and magically.

I NEED MY SWORD!

It appeared in his hand, still invisible due to it's charms. Thrusting it awkwardly upwards, he felt it connect with Snape's shoulder; and Snape sure felt it, too. Yelping in pain, Snape jumped backwards away from Harry, who called back his sword, jumped up, and before anyone reacted, threw a Reducto at the ceiling. Everyone was covered in masonry, and when the dust cleared, Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Aunt Petunia, get Dudley and meet me at the Cauldron. We've gotta go, and fast." Harry said, into his mobile once he was a safe distance from Grimmauld Place. He snapped the phone closed, and jogged the rest of the way to the dingy old pub. When he arrived around twenty minutes later, he found Petunia and Dudley waiting for him just inside the door, with Alexander on a short lead next to them. Who promptly fell over, trying to scrabble across the wood flooring to go see Harry and possibly inspect his shoes

"Harry, whe-"

"Not yet, Aunt Petunia. I'll tell you when we aren't in such a hurry." Interrupted Harry, who then left through the back door, towards the Cauldron, followed by his relatives.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Luckily, they weren't recognized despite a few funny looks – Most wizards didn't own a dog. However, they made it to Gringotts with relative ease – 'Finally, something going right,' thought Harry in relief – and got to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" the bored looking goblin asked, looking as if he really hoped the answer was no.

"Yes, I need to speak with Grillkrup."

"No, I am afraid he is busy right now." replied the Goblin, without even checking.

"Like shit you know that. There's thousands of you in here. Now tell him I need to speak with him. Even if he was busy, tell him I need him anyway."

The goblin rolled his eyes, then smirked as if hit with an idea. "I can't help you, I'm going on my break," he said, and pressed a button which began to raise a wall between the teller and Harry.

Harry didn't hear the declaration of "I'll talk to your manager!" from Petunia, nor the snort of disgust from Dudley. Too much had happened today, and he wasn't going to take anymore.

Harry was only partially aware of his own actions, and really wasn't quite sure what he was actually going to do to the goblin, but punched at the rapidly rising wall, forcing all his anger into that punch.

Quite a few things happened after that. For one, there was a minor explosion at the point of impact. Then the entire booth fell over, narrowly missing the goblin who had hopped back out of harms way.

"I- I'll g-get him now, s-s-sir" the now terrified goblin squeaked.

"Honestly, good service is so hard to find..." said aunt Petunia, not realising that her nephew was looking at his hand, absolutely gobsmacked. 'What the hell just happened...'

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Grillkrup shook his head in bemusement, while stroking his forehead as if developing a massive headache.. "Harry, I know you don't do things the normal way, but now you are breaking a Rule of Magic-"

Dudley interrupted. "What do you mean?"

"It's like rules of physics, only nobody yet knows why they are always true. Anyway, one of these rules is, and I quote from a derivative of one of Merlin's books of magical research, 'Once a Wizard has bonded with his focus, their innate magic is rearranged. This is often painful, and also pleasurable at the same time according to the accounts of others. However, I had merely a slightly warm sensation, and a feeling of rightness, which is a feeling probably existing in the usual bonding, but the pain and pleasure override it. It appears my bonding to my focus was unique.'

The bonding process stops outbursts of Wild Magic, as the wizard's magic is not randomly scattered around the person, but ordered and usable. Wild magic is pure energy, that is focused only by the intent of the caster, rather than the binding and directing nature of the incantations and wand movements. It makes it a tad... unpredictable.

"Merlin, in his treatises on the nature of magic, noted that he found himself the exception to his own rule. He occasionally let out small bursts of magic when he was irritated, and was noted for his emotional turnaround. He invented occlumency as a method of blocking any rash emotions, mostly so he could channel raw magic and develop wandless magic. Merlin always was a scholar. However, when he died his final treatise was incomplete, the one where he tried to channel it properly, and occlumency was abandoned as only he even needed it. No other wizard was strong enough to have emotional wild-magic outbursts. Many years later, when legilimency was invented by a minor Dark Lord, a student of Merlin's treatises suggested it as a way to defend against mental attacks, and thus Occlumency is considered a way to defend the mind, rather than control it."

He then asked the one question he needed answering.

"Does your bonding match Merlin's, Harry?"

Harry, who was still looking a little lost, and like the small child he never really ever was, replied in a small voice. "Yes."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**And thus we end another chappie. Next chapter, they head off to Bulgaria, finally.**

**Competition:**

**I said that the competition would end now, and it has. Both answers have been got during the latest set of reviews;**

**The Narrator is 1) Salazar Slytherin**

**2) Bloody Baron**

**By this, I mean that the Bloody Baron is really Salazar, but since nobody would ever talk to him, he was never uncovered.**

**Well done, Skull Bearer & Saffron Cyanide! They get to create a character to be used in the fic, or they can have a chapter early (as soon as it's ready). If they want to, anyway. Saffron has already created a character, (of very high quality, btw) and he will be used fairly soon. Saffron actually got both, but Skullbearer got Salazar before saffron had reviewed. Better be quick though, I'm going to get to a part where I need extra characters soon.**

**Reviews**

**Skull bearer – **I try to avoid Super!Harry, but I won't deny he is powerful. Note however, that I haven't done the usual of just starting the fic a year ahead of canon and pretending he knows everything, like most other ones. He has to be taught to use the sword, as well. I'm trying to keep it realistic (as much as possible, anyway – realism is a bit unlikely when the story is about teen wizards :) )

He only really talked in third person to keep his secret, err, secret. Anyway, it has been a thousand years or so since he was last called Slytherin. But yeah, you got one of them. Well done.

**Athenakitty** – Harry, Dudley and Petunia will all live together, yes. That's basically been taken for granted. They probably agreed on it during the hospital time. Voting's over, I'm afraid. Why were you reviewing so far back? The questions get answered further into it. He won't kick dumbles out of Grimmauld, but we will hear more on that line later.

**Sweet-Little-Yugi** – Hello again! Thanks for the compliments. I once asked Batsutousai how she got the Abandon/Reclaim chapters good every time. She said practise. While I've had much less practise, I generally try to see what works for other authors. The fast paced banter which happens from time to time is a tribute to Abandon, specifically the earlier chapters.

Slash... Well it's on the way. Next chappie they're in Bulgaria. So obviously that's where things begin to happen.

Also, great to know that the humour I'm trying out is working. When it works, humour the way I'm trying to do it, unlike the random manic craziness I've seen in some fics, is really good. Once again, a tribute to Batsutousai. She's a master of writing.

**Sanda Kenobi** – Thanks very much! I'll probably update more often now I'm in college again-during holidays I get lazy. The latest update took longer than any other, and that's inexcusable really. But it'll hopefully improve now I'm in a bit more of a working mood.

**Starmns2** – 'Fraid not. Sorry.

**Saffron Cyanide** – Well, as I said in the E-mail... Bingo! Right on the money, as they say.

**HecateDeMort – **Not flamel, as the compo message says, but good try. Thanks!

**Rea** – Merlin... afraid not. Good idea though. Thanks for the compliments, and you are my fiftieth reviewer. Wow!

**Flamegirl22** – Thanks! As the message says, yes, he is a ghost.

**Sgammage** – Thanks, although it is a surprise to hear it is fast paced. Suppose it must be that, to me each chapter take longer. After all, I'm not a particularly fast writer.

**Rhennan –** Thanks loads! By the way, when you see an inconsistency, mention it to me. I'll hopefully explain it or fix it.

**Bit smaller than the last, but still big. Chapter 7 just didn't have a good place to end for a while, so it ended up rather huge. Hit fifty reviews – How great is that! Now I'm after three figures.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Prologue_

So, you appear to have figured me out then. Took your time.

Anyway, as the author pays me (in intangible cookies) greatly for this part, I feel obliged to write something. After all, that's what the contract says.

Firstly, I want to clarify something. My descendant is a strange fellow, but certainly was no psychopath while he was in Hogwarts. Thomas was always talking about reshaping the world. He wanted to rule the world, but for the good. Iron out the Fudges and Dumbledores of this world. He knew it would be difficult, as did I. I encouraged him, gave him the benefit of my wisdom. However, Dumbledore and the ministry put up a strong fight, and combined with the incompetence of his troops, 'Voldemort', as he became known, was hindered.

Secondly, he is losing his aims. Often fighting for revenge, and battling those who want the same as he. He took on the pseudonym created by his nemesis as a way to persuade the wizarding world that he is an inhuman creature, rather than a man who was Hogwarts best student, a head boy in his time. I can't, despite my still strong mind, rationalize the man with the boy. If only he'd come for my advice... He used to, always. Every time he needed help, I would give it. I fashioned him into my protegee of sorts. By the time he finished Hogwarts, he was powerful and talented, and I would be lying if I claimed that was entirely my doing, but it was more mine than any of the professors. Have I created a monster?

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I wouldn't have to worry about college. I have a headache. Ah well...**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Grillkrup did a little more organizing before Harry's business was finished; it seemed rearranging little things on his desk was his way of coping with minor stress. It says a lot about the situation then, that the desk was in a different place by the end of it, the walls had been repainted and the entire place had been thoroughly cleaned.

'Somebody needs to find him a new way to deal with stress. This is a bit worrying,' thought Harry, despite being impressed at Grillkrup's ability to redecorate, handle business, and look nonchalant all at the same time. He didn't even leave his chair.

But this is irrelevant. Anyway, Grillkrup had arranged for a worker to travel to the hotel and pick up their belongings. Since Harry, Dudley, and Petunia needed to be somewhere safe, they asked grillkrup to prepare transport to Bulgaria. They needed to settle in before the start of term, anyway.

They were starting to discover, also, that the Durmstrang Institute of Magic was not similar to Hogwarts at all. Firstly, to graduate, one had to progress through grade bands to complete a course. Once a course was complete, that subject was taken off their timetable, and the student has a free period, to be filled with another subject of the student's choice. Viktor Krum, rather notably, passed beginners broomflight in three minutes, selected advanced broomflight as an elective to replace it, and passed that one week later, thirteen minutes into the first lesson. According to Grillkrup, this was the current record, however both subjects were single grade bands whereas many subjects had up to five bands.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Wow, this continental food is awesome!" declared Dudley, after taking a bite of his spicy lunch.

Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes, and Harry said, scowling, "Dudley... you do know that's just curry. It's Indian. You had it at home all the time. I should know."

Dudley flicked up a questioning eyebrow.

"I cooked it, remember?"

"Didn't taste as good as this," mumbled Dudley through a mouthful of rice.

Harry snarled at him and stormed out of the room.

Petunia sat down on the bed and massaged her forehead. Tensions were running high, and Harry was snapping at all sorts of things which Dudley was too clueless to realise he was saying. She would have followed him, but he needed time on his own.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Mikhail Ivanovich was a quiet person. He always was, and thus he could be found wandering the streets of... wherever he ended up. Currently, this was Thessaloniki, Greece. During the school, year, he lived in Bulgaria, on campus. In previous summers, he lived in England with his Aunt Sophie. However, his tyatya (his endearing title for his Aunt) earned a good living, and thus was easily able to fund the purchase of a picturesque apartment, near the magical area of Thessaloniki.

He currently was wandering, loosely with the purpose of grocery shopping, but often trips such as these would take him an hour or more, simply because he was curious by nature. He explored every nook and cranny of the city, knowing all the shortcuts in a week flat. His aunt often joked he knew the cities better than any taxi driver. Then again, she never much liked taxis.

Mikhail's wandering had taken him to a fairly nice hotel, not too far from his apartment. He had done all his shopping, which he bitterly regretted a few seconds later when a furious figure stamped out of the door of the hotel, and smashed straight into him. "Oh god, I'm sorry," said the black haired figure, whom lost most of the furious expression, to be replaced by one of mortification. Mikhail could make out tear tracks down his face, but did not mention them.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry stomped out of the hotel, still furious about Dudley; so furious that he didn't even notice the tears flow. However, as he pushed through the doors,

**SLAM!**

He walked straight into a kid about his age with shoulder length chocolate-brown hair, carrying a couple of bags. "Oh god, I'm sorry," he yelped, without thinking. And then nearly slapped himself. _'You're in Greece, you moron,' _he thought, his worries seemingly confirmed by the strange look he was getting. He tried to think of a Greek phrase that he actually knew but his efforts were unsuccessful. However, his fears were ungrounded anyway, as the teen spoke English, with a faint Russian accent. "Don't worry about it," the boy murmured, "But could you help me pick this up?" he continued silkily.

Harry shook himself from his stupor, and nodded. Once it was all picked up, the other teen extended his hand to Harry, saying "Mikhail Ivanovich. I go to Durmstrang. Are you starting this year?"

Harry blinked, slightly stunned. Remembering to take the stranger's hand before long, he replied "I'm Harry. How did you know I was a wizard? And yes, I am."

"A few reasons. One, you are very near to the wizarding complex, two, I can-" he said, before stopping himself. "Sorry, forget I said anything. Anyway, it wouldn't matter if you weren't, most of the eastern countries know all about the wizarding world, they just don't tell Britain or America. Otherwise, we'd be surrounded by celebrities after cheap facelifts. Over here, and also in Switzerland, some muggles know of us, not all, but if a patient has cancer, that is incurable to a muggle, we will try and help. We like to help the muggles, and they have agreed not to exploit our services."

"That makes much more sense than Britain," replied Harry.

"I know," smiled Mikhail. "I lived there."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

It was strange, mused Hary that already, after only a couple of hours, Mikhail and he were already fast friends. He was a little cautious at first when the boy asked him to his apartment, but he figured that he was safe in Greece, and that Mikhail was sincere. Besides, he had nothing better to do.

"So, what's your favourite type of music?" asked Mikhail, returning from the kitchen area with a mug of coffee each. The conversation was like this, entirely light-hearted. Mikhail had asked no questions about why he was crying, and Harry didn't ask what Mikhail was going to say earlier, when he was talking about how he knew Harry was a wizard. They would get to that conversation later, but for now, they were simply building their budding friendship.

"I dunno, I suppose I got into load of rock stuff over the past few weeks, and I know I can't stomach pop, rap and dance. Classical's pretty decent, despite my limited experience. How's about you?"

"Rock, mostly. I'm like you, I just can't stand most modern music except for metal, punk, and things like that. I used to live in the north of England, there was a really good festival near Leeds, I've been to that a few times. Never stayed the full weekend though."

"Festivals last a whole weekend?" Harry asked. "That's awesome!"

"A lot of them do. There's a few good fests in England, and another in Germany. Nothing else is really worth it unless you can get over to the US for Warped."

"I'm gonna have to go to one of them soon. Maybe stay for the full weekend..."

"Take a load of food," Mikhail advised. "Otherwise you'll be totally ripped off." He then started on another topic.

"So," Mikhail started. "What lessons are you looking forward to?"

"Defence probably, and maybe potions. My old teacher despised me, and let my schoolboy rivals sabotage my potions. Biased as hell. I'm glad I'm out of that school, now. The teachers were awful. Potions, as I said, had a spiteful teacher. The percentage of students who pass History at Owl & Newt level, is, well let's just say a single digit figure for both levels. Also, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher didn't complete one year of a five year course, in his own subject. Not his fault, but it still means he hasn't got a clue what he's doing."

"You won't get that at Durmstrang. All the teachers are monitored, retrained, the lot. That way, if any of them are incompetent, mistreating students, or misbehaving in any other way then they are thrown straight out."

"That sounds great!"

"Yeah, although not for the teachers. In fact, the Care of Magical Creatures got thrown out towards the end of last year. He'd been dealing with the illegal creature traders." His eyes darkened towards the end of this statement. Harry, wisely, didn't mention this or his change in tone.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry had never drunk before, but he was starting to be a little more adventurous around his new friend, more so than ever with Ron and Hermione. It was just as he thought; those two strove for normality. Harry was not normal and was proud of it. Thus, he was doing what he wanted, instead of what others wanted. Mikhail, it seemed, was fine with this. "Hey man, I don't care what you do, so long as it don't hurt others." His words were a little slurred due to the bottle of vodka each they'd just downed. "Get pissssed, that'ss fine, that'ss funnnn" thunk!

Mikhail had passed out. Harry is his wonderful world of drunken inanity, decided to once again wake somebody up via cold water.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"AARRRGGGGHHH!"

'Evidently, Mikhail doesn't appreciate being wet, pissed, and tired,' mused Harry. He also had a rather impressive bruise on his forehead from hitting the table, which Harry healed quickly.

"I'll get you!" he grumbled, before grabbing a pillow, and starting a pillow fight.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Seven O'Clock, the next morning, and Harry had a massive headache. His chest also felt a little strange. His head flopped over, and he saw an empty vodka bottle. _'That explains the headache,'_ thought Harry idly. Then he fell back to sleep.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Beep-Beep! Groaning, and not even opening his eyes, Harry took his phone from his pocket. "What!"

"Harry! Where are you?" asked his aunt.

Harry's eyes snapped open. "I dunno... Oh wait..." As his memories came back, so did his hangover. "A friend's," he replied. "Don't worry, I'm alright."

He snapped the phone shut, moaning in pain and rubbing his forehead.

"Whozat?" mumbled Mikhail. He opened his eyes. "Oh, hey Harry."

"Morning. Got anything for hangovers?"

As Mikhail stumbled through to the kitchen on a potion hunt, Harry looked round the apartment. A photo here and there, mostly of a particular woman, who bore a faint resemblance to his new friend. He knew this to be his Aunt, who he considered his mother. When explaining why, last night, he got no further than saying his parents weren't dead, before clamming up. Harry didn't push the subject. However, his curiousity was eating at him a little, _'He'll tell you when he knows you bette__r,'_ Harry admonished himself.

In an attempt to curb his curiousity, he wandered around the apartment, finally noticing a beautiful box, made from carved mahogany, and about fifteen centimetres each side, but only three up. Harry ran a finger along the embellished contours, gazing at the mark made on the varnished wood, before rubbing it off with his sleeve.

"Hey!" Snapped Mikhail, "Stay away from that!"

"Sorry, but you didn't tell me you didn't want me touching that," replied Harry, a little snappish himself. The hangover was still there. Mikhail tossed him a potion, and after downing it in one go, spoke again; "Sorry, that was the hangover snapping at you. It's just that the box is absolutely beautiful."

Mikhail's glare slipped off his face, and he bit his lip for a few seconds while gazing at the box, before he spoke up again. "I know," he whispered.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"You know," said Harry, "That was a fantastic pillow-fight last night. But what I really wanna know is where did we get -" Harry got up, rummaged around on the carpet through all the cushions.

Mikhail looked at his feet – his only body part still visible under the huge amount of pillows – with amusement, and sipped his coffee. Three minutes later, Harry came up for air, declaring "Three hundred & forty two, without counting the mangled ones."

"And the point of counting them was – what?" asked Mikhail, his eyes still full of suppressed mirth.

"Dunno, just wanted to know why you had enough pillows to fill every dorm in Hogwarts."

"We used a multiplier charm, remember?" Mikhail said, straining his brain. He was sure there was something strange about the multiplier charm, he just couldn't place it. He tried to push it to the back of his brain, but it still niggled.

"Oh yeah. Wait, why did we put Sustanis Magicka charms on them? They wouldn't need to last longer than a few minutes, because it's just a pillow fight."

"We didn't..."

"What the hell?" Both stared at the cushions, in slight horror and total confusion.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Okay, so we've established that we did **_not _**cast a Power Sustaining charm, nor did we keep recasting them during our sleep,"

Harry butted in. "After all, that would be crazy. And quite worrying to think that you could grasp your wand and cast random spells, while completely pissed. Either way, I'm just glad they stayed, because otherwise I'd have been sleeping on the floor."

Mikhail was looking at him funny. "What?" asked Harry, a little self conscious.

Mikhail shook his head, as if trying to recall something. "No, sorry, I just thought I'd realised something. It's gone now."

"Jesus, I'd better get back to the hotel, my relatives will be worrying."

"Alright, but you know where to find me. In fact," He rummaged around in a drawer for a while. "Take this," he said, handing over a key. "That's my spare. Don't lose it, but if I'm out when you call, just let yourself in." Harry smiled at him. "Thanks, mate."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

The next few weeks passed quickly. The Headmaster of Durmstrang had been made aware of his new charge, and had given said charge his room in the college. This new charge was none other than Harry Potter and when he sent a letter saying he would be visiting Durmstrang, the Headmaster had sent the potions teacher, Robert Lorne, to show him around the school.

Harry liked the man, he was clever and witty, and a very quick thinker. Harry respected that. It appeared Robert was familiar with all subjects taught, to an extent. He showed his young charge around the separate departments, giving quick demonstrations of some of the 'toys' that the DADA teacher used, such as a prototype sneakoscope which had different settings, some of them meaning that intent would set off the machine, other settings meaning dark magic would be the cause of the alarm.

Rob sniggered. "Simon'll be pissed to hear I've shown you a few of his faves."

"I've already seen some of them during my fourth year. However, I've never seen a modified Sneakoscope before."

"That's 'cause he just made it. Clever bloke, Simon, he only started teaching late last year. He doesn't look like he cares about teaching much, more about having fun. You'll learn from him, though. He slips the lessons into his pranks and jokes. Once, there was a real brat who'd thought he was rubbish, Sime had the little tit pink skinned, neon green haired, and stuck to his chair. The class laughed at him all lesson, but nobody dared explain what they were laughing at, in case he got them as well. He would've, as well. The funniest part was apparently when he dismissed the class, and walked out. The kid was stuck there for a few hours, screaming his head off. He's been demoted a grade now, for not realising that it was a simple F.I. to get rid of it."

"F.I.?"

"Finite Incantatem. Standard notation in your notes. Geez Harry, didn't they teach you anything there?"

"Not much, not since Remus, anyway. He was third year. Umbridge hated practical, and also anything which would speed up the process of actually writing, so we had to write everything out in full, and copy it into our notes. Totally pointless, after all we were copying from our own books. Moody was just a psycho."

During this conversation, they had been wandering the halls, towards the potions section, which was actually in a seperate wing of the school. When Harry asked why, Robert replied, "In case of potions accidents. Potions change all the time, and some explosions can't be stopped by the wards. Wards don't update to block the latest potion, you know. Hogwarts' wards are ridiculous, what happens if they get a real powerful explosion? After all, Snape is a known researcher, and he's always messing around. The wards are holding out on power alone, but each explosion chips away at it. It can't be long now before the whole place comes down."

"On top of the git."

"Yes, on top of the git."

"In that case, I look forward to it."

Robert sniggered.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was glad to see the summer pass without great incident; he found the last weeks hugely enjoyable. He spent a great deal of time in Mikhail's flat, while his relatives lived in the hotel for the rest of the holidays. He did, however teach them a few charms, meaning that whenever the puppy peed on the hotel carpet, they got away with it – thanks to _scourgify_.

It was at one of Harry's days sleeping at Mikhail's place, in fact the last night before they set off for school (they were arriving early, so Harry could get settled in), when Mikhail woke in early morning and turned over to see that Harry had left his side of the double bed. It was a one bedroom flat, so they shared a bed (their friendship is totally platonic) – and upon turning, saw Harry's outline, silhouetted in the window.

"What is it?" he said, quietly.

Harry startled, and blushed at being caught lost in his thoughts. "Nothing, nothing."

Mikhail got out of bed, and strode over to the window. He sat beside Harry on the sill, put an arm round the boy and said "Come on, you can tell me Harry."

Both boys were in their boxers, but didn't mind. Harry and Mikhail had bonded over the past weeks, developing a strong friendship, more trusting then ever before for Harry, and they could both let themselves be themselves around each other.

"I, just, well promise you won't hate me..."

"You know I won't hate you for anything, Harry. Come on, what's got you so worried?"

"Well, I think I'm..." Mikhail gave Harry a reassuring squeeze of the shoulders, and Harry gathered his courage and said, "I'm gay."

"When did you realise?" Mikhail's voice was soft and understanding.

"I dunno, it's been steadily over the past few months. I didn't really notice anything much during my last few weeks at Hogwarts, but I look back on it, and the way I thought changed a little. I've probably been this way for months, even years. I never found myself too attracted to a girl. I thought I had a crush on Cho Chang, but I think I really wanted a girlfriend, somebody caring and understanding. She was pretty, and my mind fell for her, not my heart. I would have known I was gay before then, but I didn't think about it because the wizarding world doesn't mention gaiety much. I don't know for sure, but in the muggle world more people seem to address the topic. The wizarding world, at least in England, is medieval, and nobody had really realised it could be an issue.

Also, my ex-friends were very uptight. I didn't notice, because at Privet Drive my relatives were more so, to the point of fanaticism. Ron and Hermione seemed very laid-back, but I guess when you're in the dark, everything seems brighter when you get out."

"That's true," nodded Mikhail. He continued; "People sometimes call me gay, because I have a crush on a guy. But love is love, why should it matter who loves whom?"

"Oh..." said Harry. "So you don't mind me being gay, then?"

"No, of course not. I told you I wouldn't hate you, and to be honest, it doesn't surprise me."

Harry's head snapped up. "It doesn't?"

"Nah, it was just a guess, but considering the fame, and the lack of any reasonable relationships... girls really had to be falling over themselves."

"They didn't!" Protested Harry.

"I find that hard to believe, you're hot as hell. You just didn't have the confidence. When you don't have the confidence in yourself, you assume..."

"You think I'm hot?" Harry squeaked, blushing.

"Harry, you've kept your celebrity status though more than just existing, trust me on this. Why do you think that the papers ever cared about your relationships?"

Harry didn't have a response for that, and turned his head away.

"Who was it who finally made you're mind up on it, Harry? You must have got a crush on a guy..."

Harry blushed even more. "No one, I just realised."

"I doubt that."

Harry scowled, "Who made your mind up then?"

"Viktor." Mikhail replied promptly.

"Viktor?"

"Krum."

"WHAT? Jesus, what is this, celebrity connections? You're my best mate and you're in love with an internationally famous Quidditch player."

Mikhail smirked. "I guess I'm just drawn to the photo ops," he joked. "Nah, really, I just can't help it, he's so hot. I have this vision of us flying away on his broomstick, my head resting on his shoulder and my arms around him. It's a really soppy romantic thing, but... I love the idea."

Harry cracked up.

Mikhail glared at him, affronted. "I know it's a bit silly, but Jesus, Harry. Don't worry about my feelings!"

"No, no," Harry gasped out. "It's not that, it's just... Do you know how dirty that sounded, you talking about riding his broomstick?"

Mikhail stared at him, until his lips twitched. Soon, both boys were in hysterics.

Harry snorted. "Brings so many definitions to the term 'Morning Wood'!"

They carried on laughing, until Mikhail shouted;

"Better make sure I've got broom polish around."

They giggled like madmen, occasionally gasping out dirty-minded innuendo, before collapsing in a sniggering heap on the bed.

"Night Harry."

"Night Mikhail."

"By the way, Harry, who was it you had a crush on?"

But Harry was already asleep. Or so he pretended, anyway.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**AN –** **So, there you have it. Another chappie. **

**Special thanks go to _AubreyElla _for the betaing, and _SaffronCyanide_ for helping with character design.**

**I quite liked this chapter, it had some (I think) humour in it, some of the recent chapters have been a little all-plot-no-fun, at least to me. This one was pretty fun to write.**

**I got a review stating that it was against the rules to post extensive review responses – thus, they are on my livejournal. My LJ is on my profile as my homepage. EVERYBODY has a response, (except for those reviewing since the new Review Reply feature was introduced – if I haven't responded, tell me – I love to give feeback, and I hate to forget) 'coz I'm nice like that, see? However, if the review was 'Good chappie' or something along those lines, the response won't be too long. Still go looksie if you're one of those, if you like. There'll be something, even if it's just "Thanks!" By the way, ALL unsigned reviews will be answered on my LJ – I can't use the respond feature if you aren't signed in.**

**Much love goes to my readers, and especially those who review! You're all brilliant every time. Please review, and flames will be either thoroughly mocked, or used for marshmallow toastage.**

**I can't promise a really fast new chappie. I just don't have time for writing much. Being a bloody perfectionist, if I hate something, it takes a lot of editing before I post. Anyway, I'm hardly a brilliant author, you know! Writing is bloody hard!**

**Right, any of you here want to read a little more of my stuff? Chorus of joyous Yes' fails to materialize. Never deterred, our intrepid author continues in his quest to advertize his other fiction**

**Check out the Consumate Vs Profile. I'm an author on it, as is Eryn Galen, writer of Road Trip, and AubreyElla, writer of Promising Opportunities. I'm the co-author of Mind the Petunias, with Eryn, and Redefine by me and Aubrey is to be posted eventually. Aubs is working on a couple of chapters, because we want to get a headstart, so to speak.**


	10. Chapter 10

Prologue (By Baron Salazar Slytherin)

Finally, our protagonist arrives at the Durmstrang institute of magic. He can now begin to get on with his life, and love his godfather's memory in peace. However, note how earlier in this, i pointed out that Harry isn't going to get any peace? Nothing's changed on that front yet. Fate still mocks him, and there is plenty of action to come. By now, Harry must hate it. Knowing him, all he wants is a quiet life. The sort of personality that Harry has suggests that what he **really** wants to be is a crazy loon, that sits on his porch all day telling false stories about how 'he was in the war'. However, when the stories aren't false, it takes the fun out of it somewhat.

For most of this war, he's quite clearly been a 'good' guy. But why? Lord knows, the light have never offered Harry anything but revenge. Revenge on the wrong person. The next few months will be critical. Harry will need true allies, true friends, and to build up trust and loyalty. Without this, he might as well give up now. He can't fight alone, nor can he make some rather important choices alone.

Right now Harry is torn. Were you wondering why he has not contacted my protegee Thomas already? I'll tell you. Cedric and Harry were on better terms than was realised by most – they kept their 'friendship' secret from the rest of the school, because otherwise they would be accused of collaboration – accusations which would be impossible to deny, since they were totally true. And a minion of Voldemort's killed Cedric.

Also, note the fact that although James Potter was Harry's father, Sirius was his... substitute father, if you will. A minion of Voldemort killed him, and even before that, another minion, notably the one who killed Cedric, kept Sirius from Harry. The Rat is a member of Thomas' organization, and the prison that should have held him, if anyone, held Sirius Black in his stead.

There is one way Harry could be bought by Tom. There is no money that would tempt Harry, no service that Harry's childhood nemesis could perform, that would be enough. All Harry wants is a pet... A rat, specifically.

Mind you, he wouldn't really know what to do with it – question the cowardly bastard under Veritaserum, feed him to Manwatheal (You haven't met him yet, Harry has though – He's Mikhail's half kneazle. The other half is siamese cat, which is strange – Kneazles avoid mundane cats like the plague), or hand him over to the ministry to get Sirius' name cleared post-humously.

This chapter will change part of what I have written. But don't be skipping ahead, now...

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Author: Jacobim Von Styluss**_

_**Not a Disclaimer: Gaaa! Damn my earache! It's been going for over a week now... (If you really need a disclaimer, go back a chapter or two...)**_

**_This was betaed by the fantastic and incomparable AubreyElla! Go give that girl a hug, right now!_**

**_Chapter devoted to - Aubrey for being just generally fantastic, Jenny for being mental, and Me! Dunno why, really. Oh, and to anyone who participates in my little request at the end._**

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_7pm, Durmstrang Institute, August 24th_

_'I really hope my room is near Mikhail's' _thought Harry as Robert led him down a corridor leading to some of the rooms. Mikhail was living in school, as he always had despite his new flat, which is closer than the house in England that he shared with his Aunt. He said to Harry that living out of the school would feel strange.

In truth, despite having a new school, it would have been strange to him as well.

Harry was lost in his memories of Hogwarts, what good memeories remained untainted by Ron and Hermione's betrayal, and Dumbledore's treachery – sitting around the fire, playing gobstones with Neville or Seamus, or even talking football with Dean; being the only two completely muggle-raised students in the dorm, both had a passion for the sport. Although quidditch had the entire Wizarding nation engrossed, both Harry and Dean enjoyed football more as a spectator sport.

'I'll have to owl those three, even if just to warn them off Ron & Hermione,' mused Harry.

So lost in his thoughts of true friends, he didn't realise they had stopped walking, having arrived at the dorm.

Returning to earth from Robert's tap on the shoulder, Harry noticed a brass plate on the door into which the word 'Krum' was engraved.

"Krum? As in, Viktor?" asked Harry, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Yep, he's the moderator for this area. It's like having a head of house in Hogwarts, except the selection is random for each area, and you are allowed to stay in the common rooms of whichever 'House' you want. There's six in the college -"

"Hold up, what's Viktor doing here still? Hasn't he completed his education?" Harry interrupted.

Robert rolled his eyes and smiled. "Just about. But he's a teacher here. He teaches all the flight classes, whenever Sofia – his club team – isn't playing. Actually, they're a lucky team, they have hundreds more fans now that Viktor teaches here, because all the students love him to bits. Occasionally, the school will organise trips to his games.

"Anyway, as I was saying, there's six living areas for students, each with around thirty rooms. Each student gets a room each, and there are a few common rooms in each area – everybody is allowed in other area's common rooms, in case you have friends there. However, if the moderator thinks that anybody is being rude, offensive, or behaving in a less than respectable manner, they will be removed from that particular room, and taken to isolation. One hour, where all you are allowed to do is work. It's a good way of getting even the dodgy kids to do their homework."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry was sat on his bed, simply admiring his 'room'. However, despite what it was called, this was no room. This was an entire apartment that simply fit into the outward space of a single room. It had been expanded, and a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and living room – also the entrance - made up his apartment.

Durmstrang had a rather neat idea on how to deal with the catering situation without many house-elves – have restocking cupboards in the apartments, and the students cook for themselves. If they can't cook, then they lose a free period to cookery class, and when they pass they can cook whatever they want. Until they pass, they have to deal with a smaller choice of foods, cooked by some of the few house-elves at the college.

Also, if you want a tidy apartment, then tidy it yourself. However, laundry is the one job always done by the house-elves, and all clothing had to have name-tags attached, so they could give them to the right students. These were the main rules laid down, apart from that it was obvious – no fighting, no offensive behaviour, always do your homework, etc.

Robert had gone over these before he had left, also mentioning that Viktor should have been doing it, but he was busy with a league game; which also explained the lack of students – some stayed through the holidays, having nowhere nearby to live, and unlike some sports, quidditch was played all year round, so students during holidays would always go see his games, having little better to do.

About two hours after Harry had been shown to his room, and had unpacked everything, he was reading a book, with his feet up on the other side of the sofa in his front room, and a cozy fire burning in the hearth. A knock came at the door, and Harry looked up from The Fellowship of the Ring, by Tolkien.

"Come in!" Stated Harry.

The door opened, and a man said "Hello again, Harry," in a strong Eastern-European accent.

"Viktor! It's great to see you again," greeted Harry warmly, rising to greet his visitor.

"And you, Harry." came the reply from the Bulgarian.

They shook hands, and Harry offered him a seat.

"Do you want a drink, or something?" asked Harry, playing the host, and actually pretty glad to be using a kitchen for that sort of reason – most of his life at the Dursleys, he'd been cooking for them only, he very rarely ate a hot meal, making do with cheese sandwiches mostly. At Hogwarts, the elves dealt with that sort of need. Harry liked the feeling of liberation that came from cooking when he wanted to.

"I vood like a cup off something hot, coffee if it vould not be too much trouble. It was freezing, and the hot water voss broken in the showers after the match."

When Harry had returned from the kitchen with a cup of coffee for Viktor, and tea for himself, he noticed Viktor was still shivering, so having passed the coffee into grateful hands, he cast a warming charm on the sofa. Viktor looked a little puzzled. At Harry's inquisitive look, he wondered out loud;

"Vy did I not think of vat?"

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Right, so I believe vat you have already been filled in by Professor Lorne on most of the rules, so I'm really just here to explain a few things vot you might vant to know. Firstly, is there anything in particular you are vondering about?"

"Quidditch, is there teams for it?"

"I am afraid not, Harry. We do play quidditch, but it's recreational only. However, if you vont to play competitively, you could join a professional team. A couple haff already done that, I did it long before I taught. Often, a group of friends will start their own team, and enter them into a lower league, but I think you could join an established team."

"That's sounds fantastic," came Harry's enthusiastic reply. "Do you know any team who'll need a seeker?"

"Vell, I vood advise joining the reserve team for a club. If you vant, I could put in a vord – Sofia need a new reserve, in case I get injured. It has happened in the past, and caused the team to lose – we haff a reserve seeker, but his build is not good enough. His reflexes, while excellent, are also clearly outclassed by vot I have seen from you."

"You really think I'm good enough to join a premier league team?"

"Harry, you could be the best seeker in the vorld, given time."

Harry tried to protest, but Viktor raising a hand silenced him.

"Zat is my opinion, whether you accept it or not. Anyvay, you haff more questions?"

"Yeah, how exactly does the education system work?"

"Vell, you vood need to choose your lessons first," he stated, handing over a prospectus. "Ve vill look through it later. After you have chosen, a timetable will be made. The amount of lessons you haff is your choice, although you vill need to take the core lessons as vell. To graduate from a subject, you must pass a grade band. To do that you are set an exam by your professor. Once you haff graduated from all the grade bands, the subject is complete, and you timetable automatically updates, to replace it with a free period. When this happens, you can fill the space with another lesson, or just leave it free. There is no time limit to how often you can progress. I myself qualified both Broomflight classes in a single veek. You, I imagine, will qualify even quicker.

"Broomflight classes are half core, as everybody is taught basic broomflight as mandatory, but there as an advanced course vich must be completed for a professional team to even consider accepting you. However, I have seen you fly, and I vill enter you into my exam immediately, and ven you pass both, you vill be qualified to fly professionally. Both flight courses haff only a single grade band.

"Now if you open that prospectus, I vill show you the lessons you vill be taking."

Harry did so, and was directed to the 'courses' section.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"Right, so you will be doing Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against Dark Arts, Dark Arts, Potions & Basic Herbology, Arithmancy and Rune Magic. Since you've lived in both the muggle world and wizarding world for five or more years, you are exempt from Cultural Studies. You'll be starting from the beginning for Arithmancy, Dark Arts and Rune Magic, correct?" Headmaster Ainion asked.

Headmaster Armand Ainion was aesthetically, a peculiar man. Whether it continued onto his personality was up for debate, but with waist length hair in an enviable shade of crimson, shockingly amber eyes, and a diminuitive height of 5'7'', he certainly stuck out like a sore thumb, in what was a relatively normal establishment.

"Yep," replied Harry.

"Very well, I will inform the other subject's teachers that you need an assessment. That will be all, I think – oh wait, I heard you wish to play for a Quidditch team?" Upon seeing Harry's confused nod, he continued. "In that case, you will need to ensure that you train only in your spare time, except in special cases. By this, I mean important matches for your club coming up, and so on. After all, even I have a soft spot for Quidditch."

Harry grinned, and inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Of course, Headmaster. By the way, have you found a replacement for your Magical Creatures teacher?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. I have been searching for the entire summer so far, but have not found one quite adequate. A skilled teacher in the subject is difficult to find, however we are trying to persuade an ex-Hogwarts teacher, Professor Kettleburn to fill in until we have one. He says he will, but reluctantly, since he apparently has felt uncomfortable around animals since an accident with an Erumpent in Africa cost him an arm. It sneezed on him, with disastrous results. For some reason, he refuses to get it regrown."

Harry cut in. "If you've ever drank Skelegrow, you'll know why. Anyway, at Hogwarts while Hagrid was unable to teach for a few months, a supply teacher, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank came in. Lord knows, she was a damn sight better than Hagrid."

"In that case, I will contact her. Very well, I shall see you later Mr. Potter."

Harry took this as a dismissal, and left the office.

When he left the room, he found his relatives waiting outside.

"Hello Harry," said Petunia. "How'd it go?"

"Meh, I found out my lessons, and suggested a new teacher."

"Who for?" said Mikhail, coming up behind Harry, who understandably flew up into the air.

"Geez Mikhail, don't _do _that!" Admonished Harry.

"I would apologize, but the scaring was totally intentional," said Mikhail cheekily.

Harry slapped him on the back of the head, to which the Russian pouted, but didn't reply.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry spent most of the remaining summer idly wandering around the college, usually with his overexuberant puppy bouncing around his ankles. Mikhail walked with him sometimes as well, either pointing out good spots to sit and talk, or just to think in peace. Harry, once again, was glad that he had moved to Durmstrang. It was not cold, as the Hogwarts students were led to believe, in fact a weather charm was cast over the grounds making the whole atmosphere similar to summer all year. Well, not all year – everybody's got to have snow at some point in the year.

During one of these sedate ambles, Harry recalled conversations he'd had with Ron, after the Durmstrang students had arrived at Hogwarts. They said that Durmstrang must be cold, that's why they are wearing the cloaks. Harry snorted. If they spent most of their time in a freezing cold place, why would they need cloaks to go somewhere warmer? Surely they'd be used to cold.

Harry loved everything about Durmstrang. It was warm, the teachers were pleasant and competent, and most importantly, there was nobody here to betray him. Dumbledore wouldn't have thought to place a person in Durmstrang; he didn't know Harry owned it.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

The time before term passed quickly, and Harry soon found himself wandering to his first lesson of the year. It was peculiar seeing the college so full of people, as the student wing was sparse during summer, while the lesson corridors were totally empty except for the occasional teacher, wandering around the rooms trying to prepare for the next term.

Harry had found that his first lesson was Potions, with R. Lorne, who he already knew, of course. He knew the man was a talented potions master, and a Slytherin (for he indeed went to Hogwarts) of the way that Salazar intended – witty and cunning, rather than oily and overconfident.

This got Harry thinking. What about characters such as Draco Malfoy? He knew that the sorting hat had the essences of all founders inside, which means that surely, only if there was complete agreement with all personalities, would a new student be admitted immediately to a certain house, as Draco was. Did this mean that Salazar believed that Draco was an ideal Slytherin? He certainly could outwit anyone, when he desired... even at the age of eleven, not Harry, Neville, Ron or Hermione realised that they had been set up. Harry remembered Draco as merely an irritation, a thorn in his side, but what if Draco was more as a person than that? Perhaps that was a facade, the 'smug git' persona that most people knew him as.

The more Harry thought, the more his curiosity grew. He wanted to meet Malfoy again, he had to...

When Harry finally arrived at his lesson, he was at least ten minutes late.

"Will you tell me why you're late, Harry?" Professor Lorne said.

"I lost track of time, sorry Professor. I'm too used to just wandering around the college, thinking."

Harry shot a small grin at his teacher.

The potion master rolled his eyes. "Sit down, and don't call me professor. None of the teachers particularly want you to, and Simon'll have a fit if you do."

"Erm, alright Rob."

"Harry! Over here!" A four person desk was filled except for one seat, next to Mikhail. Harry sat down quickly, greeting his friend in hushed tones.

"Right!" Robert had raised his voice, to address the entire class, who'd been distracted by Harry's entrance.

"The first topic on the syllabus is medicine, so we will start with a discussion of very basic magical first aid. So, firstly, assume I was choking to death. You have ten minutes, and I want you to write a method on how you would prevent my untimely and rather... undignified demise. You can use any ingredients that you want, but the final solution to the problem would need to able to be administered very quickly."

Ten minutes later, after some worried head scratching from a few students, Robert called out "do we have a solution?" Seeing the general consensus of nods, he asked Harry for his solution. Harry gave it very reluctantly. Robert read it rather quickly, and his expression changed from indifference to shock.

Then he burst out laughing. "Well done Harry, well done indeed." He said once he had recovered.

"Robert, what did he put?" asked a slightly younger student.

"The Heimlich maneuver, and step by step instructions on how to perform it."

Mikhail burst out laughing, while the rest of the class looked baffled. Mikhail gasped out "The Heimlich maneuver is a muggle solution where you grab the person from behind, and tug your hands up into their stomach. It almost always works, but most wizards wouldn't think of it."

"Yes, well done Harry – although trust you, probably the most powerful wizard here, to use a muggle solution."

A burly student in the back of the class laughed, and yelled "Who the hell is he? Since when is that shrimp the most powerful wizard in the college? He's wearing make-up, the fag!" **_People, I'm gay myself, so please don't take offence from this comment – anyway, read on..._**

He got hexed by fourteen people in the few seconds, notably Harry himself, who was now very obviously Harry Potter, since before nobody really looked at him. Also hexing him was, understandably, Mikhail, whose face wore such rage that even Harry was intimidated, and the professor himself, who nonchalantly said, "One by one now, who hexed him with what? And if any were dangerous to his health, speak up now." Everybody remained quiet. "That just leaves me then," said Robert cheerfully.

Harry had to struggle to keep a straight face.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Harry only had one more lesson that day, being Defence Against the Dark Arts with a professor that Harry had heard mentioned but never met. Simon Blake. However, when he entered the room, he took one look at his silver-dyed-haired teacher before his eyes widened and he passed out with shock, saying only one word, and cracking his head on the floor.

The teacher took one look at him, and said one word, in utter shock, "Oops..." while thinking 'I didn't set up the pranks on the door today, I'm sure of it! I never do, for first day...'

Before he took a closer look at this student, anyway. Then his thoughts went blank, and his jaw figuratively hit the floor.

"Guys, I'm calling off this class," he said in a choked voice, before carrying Harry to the infirmary.

The students were a little confused, but didn't care much, since they now had a free period, for what was the last lesson of the day, and headed off in their own direction, except for Mikhail who tried to catch up with the teachers.

Meanwhile, one student was beginning to worry that her hearing was going wrong. She could have sworn that before Harry collapsed, he muttered "Siri?"

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

**AN : #laughs to self#... I'm evil! More evilness to come in a while, in fact, as of now, it's at the end of next chapter. But you know what I'm like with updates, so it'll probably still be a while.**

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**I have a new site! It's a fanfiction thing, it's a glossary of terms that you may find in the fanfiction world. So, I'd advise you at least stick it on your favourites, because it's hardly unknown for somebody to come across a term they don't know. There is, after all, loads of them... Also, you see one that I've missed, please please please, submit it! There's a submissions form, although it has limited uses left, which means I may eventually have to pay :( Or I might just return to an e-mail system... Would be cheaper...**

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**I keep forgetting Harry has a puppy now! But hey! His puppy is DEAD CUTE!**

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**And now, I have a task for you all!**

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_**I'm bored of having my chapters called Chapter #, so anybody who can be bothered, I would be VERY grateful if you'd think up chapter names for all the ones I have. The best one for each chapter will be picked. I'll go back and edit them in once I've received them. The more funny/creative, the better! Don't have any chapter spoilers in them though! And just for the record, I'll credit the creative geniuses behind the titles, at the end of each chapter. Sound worth it? There's a little button saying 'Go' on it, click it and you can send them as a review. Alternatively, you can simply send me a PM from my profile. Whichever suits you, really.**_

**_PLEASE REVIEW! I'M GONNA DO A SILLY HAPPY DANCEWHEN I HIT 100! WOOHOO!_**

**_And sorry about the lateness again! Two chapters in a row? I should be ashamed of myself..._**


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